


The Garden

by TheLateNightStoryTeller



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, I tried an arc with Yaz that I'm hoping is gonna work, Slow Burn, bonding and misunderstanding, hopefully some character growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-11-28 04:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18203816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller/pseuds/TheLateNightStoryTeller
Summary: On an otherwise uneventful Sunday, the Doctor and Yaz set out to visit a far off garden planet. But the TARDIS has its own ideas of where they need to go. A colony of humans is in trouble in the not so distant future but a prior incident at work has followed Yaz along for the journey, making her question what she thought she knew about herself and her relationship with the Doctor. (Multichapter)





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story, if you are interested in some background this is my attempt to write a Doctor Who "episode" like fic where I give Yaz an arc and develop the relationship between her and the Doctor. Ryan and Graham do not feature strongly in this story, not because I don't love them but because I am not yet talented enough to juggle that many main characters with what I wanted to do with this. Love and adventure await you, should you chose to continue. Enjoy!

It was raining, cold specs of ice water that pelted the roof of Yaz’s car, and not long after she’d stepped out into the dark construction site her face and hair were dripping with it.

Sunday nights were usually quiet and the rain usually rendered them entirely uneventful, but tonight she'd received a call about someone sneaking into the construction site with a couple of spray cans. Teenagers probably, bored or lashing out at the harsh world they were just coming to understand. She could empathize with both of those even if she didn't approve of defacing public property. Hopefully, she'd be able to stop them before they did anything too illegal.

Her torch shone on the half-finished building, revealing smooth, unblemished concrete cobwebbed by the mesh of scaffolding. The rain was so thick it was hard to see, the wind howling over her footsteps.

A sudden loud _thump_ beside her made her jump.

She spun around, the beam of her torch shining off the metal of a spray can still clattering against the hard ground. Frowning, she redirected the light upwards, following the path the can would have taken, and caught sight of a shadowy silhouette perched on an offshoot of scaffolding.

“You can’t be up there!” she shouted over the gale. “It’s dangerous.”

“Help!”

The girl’s voice, hoarse with fear, set Yaz’s heart hammering in her throat. Clearly, she was stuck up there and, upon second glance, it didn't look like the perch she'd chosen was a stable one. 

“I’m coming!” she promised, already scanning the building for a way up. “Don’t move. I’m coming.”

“Hurry!” the girl called.

Spotting the path she must have taken, Yaz spared a moment to radio her unit before scrambling up.

“I have a teenage girl stuck in the scaffolding at the Hillfoot construction site,” she reported brusquely. “The fire department is needed at 51 Burgoyne Road.”

The reply was instantaneous.

“Sending back up. Keep her where she is until someone reaches you.”

It didn’t take Yaz long to reach the girl, her limbs agile from the adrenaline shooting through her system. She was clinging to the edge of the metal scaffolding, fingers gripped tightly around the slick metal rod that shot up from the one her feet were balanced on. When Yaz saw how thin the rail she was standing on was, her stomach churned.

“I can’t get back,” the girl sobbed. “It started to rain. It’s too slippery. I can’t do it. I’m gonna fall.”

“You’re not going to fall,” Yaz assured her. “I’ve called for help. We’ll get you down.”

From where Yaz stood on the metal board, the girl was still about a meter away, but she could see the terror in her eyes even through the spray of water.

“I didn’t want to come up here,” the girl wailed. “I only came because Kelsey told everyone I was a square. It was just a dare. I didn’t come up here to jump. You can’t let my mum think I was gonna… Oh my God…” She choked out a frightened sob.

“You can tell her yourself once we’ve gotten you down,” Yaz assured her. “But I need you to stay calm for me. What’s your name?”

“Ana Costa,” she said shakily.

“I’m Yasmin Khan,” Yas introduced. “But you can call me Yaz, OK? I need you to stand really still for me Ana. Can you do that?”

“It’s really cold,” she whined. “My fingers hurt.”

“They’re going to hurry,” she assured her. “They’ll be here soon and then we can get you warm. Hold on.”

Ana nodded stiffly, taking a long shaky breath.

“My mum’s gonna be so mad,” she lamented.

"No, she won't. She'll just be happy that you're OK," Yaz insisted.

The wind raged against the scaffolding, making it creak loudly, and Ana whimpered.

“You’re doing great, Ana,” she encouraged. “Don’t move, you’re doing great. They’ll be here soon.”

Even as she spoke though, her eyes were raking over the crisscross of metal, scanning for a way to get her down before she was blown off by the ferocity of the storm. Every trail out to her was thin, slick with rain and obscured by the pitch-black night. Her ears strained over the din but she couldn’t hear the sirens yet and she didn’t think she could climb and shine her torch to show the way at the same time.

Lightning flashed, the boom of thunder trailing right behind, and Ana screamed.

“I’m slipping! Yaz. I’m slipping!” she shrieked

“Ana hold on!” Yaz urged.

But she could already see the young girl’s feet running madly against the slippery pole, fighting to regain their grip, and her fingers were quickly peeling off the rod they clung to.

Yaz stopped thinking, instinct driving her forward along the tightrope of slick metal, towards Ana. The girl reached out for her, her flailing hands grabbing hold of Yaz’s sleeve but as Yaz tried to pull her back onto the beam her own feet slipped out from underneath her and the two of them lost the scaffolding to the open air.

Lightening lit the sky behind them, a flash of blue against their falling forms, and the ensuing thunder roared over the thud of them hitting the ground.

/-/-/

**_5 Weeks Later_ **

It was Sunday in Britain but that couldn’t be helped.

Ryan was with his dad, mending what he could between them. The Doctor’s young friend had a braver heart than her, to open it up the way he was to someone who’d already hurt him so badly. His old pain was still sharp in his memory and she worried at how it would swell at another betrayal. She wasn’t sure she’d be capable of taking such a risk. Or maybe it had just been so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to have a father… or to be one.

Graham had opted to stay in 2019 Sheffield that day too. He’d said something about feeling tired and the Doctor couldn’t help but worry. She wasn’t used to being around humans so far along in their life course, had been avoiding it for years. As strong as they were, their lives were painfully short, falling so easily from the planes on which she could reach them. But his cancer wasn’t back. The TARDIS told her that. Would tell her if it was.

Yaz was working. She’d been on shift since before dawn that day, and the Doctor had set the local police radio to play in the background, eased for once by monotony though she suspected that her friend was restless. It had only been a week since she’d been cleared to go back to work, but she’d already been worrying over her superior officers being too soft on her. She was eager for something to prove herself, more so now than ever. Of the three of them, the Doctor thought Yaz was the most like her. And, so, she thought that was why she scared her the most.

It was Sunday in Sheffield and everyone was busy, so she made herself busy too. The TARDIS needed a good cleaning anyway. She’d been neglecting her so long there were ecosystems starting in the basement.

A knock at the door caught her attention just as she managed to locate her frog net and Wellies and she jumped to answer it. She couldn’t keep the smile of relief from stretching across her face when she opened it to find Yaz.

“What are you dressed for?” Yaz asked curiously, puzzling over her boots and the net still clutched in her hand.

“Nothing important,” the Doctor assured her, tossing it aside as she let her in.

It would be rude to keep cleaning now that she had company. And so what if the TARDIS had a few slightly mutated frogs? Yaz’s company was as good an excuse as she needed to set the tedious activity aside.

Yaz leaned on the control board in the centre of the room, watching with some amusement as the Doctor popped out of her Wellies and into her regular boots. Out of the corner of her eye, the Doctor observed the way she held herself, searching for signs of discomfort but there was nothing to see. If anything was hurting her, her friend wasn’t letting it show.

“I thought you were having tea with your family this evening,” the Doctor commented when she finished.

“Yeah, but that’s the good thing about having a mate with a time machine,” Yaz answered. “Can’t be late for tea. Or anything.”

“You fancy a trip?” she offered hopefully.

“You don’t think Ryan and Graham would be left out?” Yaz pointed out, though her eyes lit up in a yes.

The Doctor shrugged.

“We don’t have to go anywhere exciting. Just a quick jump a couple centuries. A few planets over. They won't mind that.”

“Something easy?” Yaz summarised doubtfully, frowning.

“Without all the running and explosions,” she confirmed. “But only because the others aren’t here,” she added, not wanting Yaz to get the wrong idea. “Oh! The Garden of the Sweet Flower Queen!”  

She swung around the controls, already adjusting knobs, though her friend’s expression had dampened her mood. Something had wedged itself between them these past several weeks, setting them out of sync where once they’d walked in perfect step, and she wished she knew what to do to fix it.

“The what?” Yaz asked, trailing behind her.

To the Doctor’s relief, the suspicion in her eyes had given way to a curious sparkle.

“The Garden of the Sweet Flower Queen,” she repeated enthusiastically. “You’ll love it. It’s an entire planet of gardens like nothing in the universe. The botanical life of two different worlds smooshed together. It has colours you can’t see anywhere else.”

“Two different planets?” Yaz echoed, bemused. “How did that happen?”

“No one knows,” the Doctor told her, raising her hands theatrically. “Been that way for centuries. Humans live there now, so half of it must be terrestrial. I think.” She beamed invitingly. “So?”

"I'm sure the other's won't mind," Yaz decided.

“Not a bit,” the Doctor concurred.

She skipped around Yaz, reaching for the controls on the other side, and her friend pivoted to watch, a gleam in her eyes. When the Doctor pulled the lever, the TARDIS trembled around them, stretching their grins between their ears and for a moment they were them again, the wedge forgotten.

On an otherwise ordinary Sunday afternoon in Sheffield, a blue police box whirred against the lonely sky, fading in out of the dreary day until it disappeared completely.

/-/-/


	2. The Greenhouse

“It might be bright,” the Doctor warned as Yaz leapt to poke her head out the door. “And don’t be startled by the cripsimsom… It might take your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the new colour…”

She’d been rambling non-stop since they’d landed, bubbling on the outside the way Yaz was inside, and she wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting when she peeked out to see where they’d landed but it certainly wasn’t what she found.

“Actually, it’s mostly white and green,” she announced flatly.

Rows of sprouts perched atop gleaming steel tables and she scanned them dubiously before moving on to the pipes above them, searching for a hint of the excitement she’d been promised, but it looked like an ordinary greenhouse.

“What?” the Doctor questioned disgruntledly, peeking out over her shoulder. “Oh. Maybe it’s a maintenance room?”

“It is bright,” Yaz conceded, squinting against the glare.

“And alien,” the Doctor announced, motioning up at the sun blazing through the glass. “That’s not your sun.”

“How do you know that’s not our sun?” Yaz wondered.

“I know your sun,” the Doctor told her confidently. “It’s a lot more yellow than that. Too yellow. Like it swallowed a lemon.”

“Oi,” Yaz protested. “Keep that up and I’m not taking you to the beach anymore.”

“Don’t get defensive, it does a fine job keeping you all alive,” the Doctor assured her. “Very sunny.”

“Maybe it looks different because of the sky,” Yaz speculated, noting for the first time the dusky brown tones in the blue.

“Oh, it is different. Good eye!” the Doctor praised, following her gaze. “Still definitely alien.”

She sounded certain enough that Yaz decided to let it go.

“Do you think it’s polluted?” she wondered instead.

“Or it’s supposed to be like that,” the Doctor suggested.

“Should we have a look around?” Yaz prompted, itching to learn where exactly they’d landed.

She took a tentative step out, encouraged when the Doctor trailed behind her. Together they walked past the long tables of pots, pipes creaking above their heads. A gentle mist sprayed down on them and the Doctor waved her screwdriver at it, unalarmed by the reading she took.

“Just water,” she said. “Maybe this is a nursery.”

“It is peaceful,” Yaz admitted, getting over her initial disappointment.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” the Doctor dismissed, still frowning.

They’d reached the door at the end of the room and the Doctor used her screwdriver to unlock it.

Behind it, there were even more rows of pots. Not seedlings this time but older plants. Recognizable plants. Corn, wheat, tomatoes. Alien planet or not, these plants were from Earth. _Only_ from Earth.

“Not many colours in this Garden, Doctor…” Yaz said.

“Hold on, I know,” she pouted. “This definitely isn’t it.”

“Should we try again?” Yaz suggested.

The Doctor opened her mouth to reply but before she could a loud blare sounded from the ceiling, accompanied by flashes of red and blue from the lights overhead. A disjointedly cheerful, female voice played over the noise.

_“All citizens please take shelter in the centre. All citizens please take shelter in the center. All citizens…”_

Yaz and the Doctor glanced at each other, hands over their ears.

“Maybe just a peek?” Yaz shouted. “Make sure everyone’s OK?”

“Yeah. Just in case,” the Doctor agreed over the racket. “Probably a sprinkler malfunction. We’ll be off again in a few minutes.”

“Where’s the centre?” Yaz asked.

“Follow me,” the doctor instructed, stepping ahead. “And stay close. We don’t know what’s going on.”

They wound their way quickly through another few rooms, all filled with similar tables of crops. A few other people, who looked human, joined them in the journey but no one seemed to notice that they didn’t belong.

The maybe-humans didn’t seem to be very panicked either, though many wore a frown of concern. Yaz guessed that whatever this was it was routine enough that they'd grown accustomed to it. Never-the-less she stuck close to the Doctor, feeling the other woman’s hand slide into hers when the trickle of people turned into a crowd. As always, for a fleeting, wishful moment, she wondered if this habit the Doctor had meant something more than she let on.

It was only for a moment though because, of course, it didn't. She always realized that a heartbeat too late to keep from disappointing herself. Whatever was happening, they’d both be safer if they stuck together.

When the next door shut behind them, it left the noise and the lights on the other side of it, and she breathed out a sigh of relief at the peace left by their absence. The room they were in now was larger, round with doors leading out on all sides. She and the Doctor waited, watching more people pour in. Doors opened and closed, letting the alarm spill in before cutting it off abruptly. Over and over until, eventually, when the room was crowded but not suffocating, they stopped opening.

About a minute later the walls shook against a howling blast of wind and the view of the sky through the glass roof was obscured by a cloud of brown. It dinged against the glass, millions of tiny collisions echoing over each other, and Yaz turned to the Doctor with wide eyes, realizing what it was.

“It’s a sandstorm.”

“We must be in a desert,” the Doctor agreed, staring up.

It was certainly possible. Though the entire building seemed to be made of glass, they were too deep into it to see the outside. Anything could have been out there, but all they could view from here was the off-colour sky, now hidden by the raging sand.

“We’re in a giant greenhouse filled with Earth plants in a desert on an alien planet,” she summarized uncertainly. She tilted her head, her tone sarcastic. “Makes sense.”

“For an early Earthling colony maybe,” the Doctor pointed out, brow furrowed. "But in a desert?"  

“Is that what this is?” Yaz wondered.

She glanced around, her curiosity piqued. Were these the distant descendants of humanity? How far into the future were they? How far from Earth had they wandered? What technological advances had they uncovered along with space travel? Did they still have the internet? They wore what might have been uniforms, all of them clad in the same clean grey shirts and trousers. No one appeared to be carrying a smartphone, but it wasn't impossible that an implant in their eyes or ears served as a synonymous device.

“Anyone here look in charge to you?”

The Doctor’s question broke Yaz out of her wonderings and she glanced at her long enough to recognize the gears turning behind her eyes, before returning her attention to the citizens.

“No,” she decided quickly.

Upon re-examination, she noticed they’d clustered off into small groups, speaking in hushed voices. No one was doing a head count or surveying the room. No one was doing anything except waiting for instructions. They all seemed around the same age too. None of them were old, but none of them were young either. No children and no elderly.

“Is this everyone?” she wondered.

“I hope so,” the Doctor said. “I think the room’s been locked. I could open the doors, of course, but no one else seems to want inside.”

The doors, like the roof and walls, were made of glass. They could see through them down the hallways leading out and each one was empty.

“I told you, I’m not the one who designed this thing!”

One perturbed voice rose over the mumblings, catching more than just Yaz and the Doctor’s attention.

“You’re the maintenance!” a tall man accused.

“I’m an architect,” a woman corrected defensively. “But not _that_ architect.”

She was small, birdlike, with dark features and arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s the Terra-tech that’s failed us now anyway,” he grunted. “I guess it runs in the family.”

“Don’t you blame my mum for this!” she shot back.

“I’ll blame whoever deserves it!” he growled.

"Everyone but yourself," she spat. 

The man’s eyes flared and he shoved her hard enough to send her skidding onto her backside. Before she realized what she was doing, Yaz’s feet had moved her between him and the woman and she was standing in front of him with her chin raised to meet his glare, anger bubbling in her throat.

“There’s no need for that!” she scolded.

“Who are you?” the man questioned, eyes narrowed in confusion. “And what are you wearing? Where did you get that?”

“We’re new,” the Doctor explained quickly, whizzing to her side. “Afraid we don’t know the dress code yet.”

Seeing that she had a friend must have intimidated him, because he backed away a step, still scowling. Yaz took the opportunity to look back at the woman who’d been shoved.

“You alright?” she asked kindly.

“Sure,” she mumbled, already pushing herself to her feet.

No one helped her. No one else was even looking at her, they were all staring at Yaz and the Doctor.

“Did that damn AI wake more people up?” the man complained loudly. “We don’t need any more mouths to feed!”

A few people muttered aggravatedly in agreement, the rest just looked uncomfortable.

“Now, when you say more people?” the Doctor prompted.

“There’s only forty-nine of us up right now,” a shorter man explained, his voice tired where the first man’s had been angry. “Fifty-one now I guess,” he added, gesturing to Yaz and the Doctor.

“And why haven’t you woken any of the others?” the Doctor asked. “You said the Terra-tech wasn’t working properly.”

“Haven’t you looked outside?” the tall man growled, throwing his hands up towards the sand. “We should be in the middle of a forest right now, but it’s worse than when we set out!”

Though the sky was starting to clear, ripples of sand still clung to the glass roof and the brown-grey tint remained. There certainly weren’t any leaves, or insects, or anything else that would hint that the outside world was anything other than wasteland.

“The atmosphere is completely devoid of oxygen now,” the shorter man explained. “And it’s filling up with toxic gasses.”

“Filling up? Like the gas is coming from somewhere?” the Doctor questioned.

“Something is pumping out toxins into it,” he confirmed.

“And this greenhouse was only supposed to be temporary,” the Doctor guessed.

Yaz knew that look. It was the tangible expression of her own unspoken thoughts. They weren’t going to be going back to the TARDIS any time soon.

A ding sounded above their heads and the friendly computer voice returned.

_All citizens are now free to move about the habitat. Please be aware of newly quarantined zones A5, C7, and G9._

“Nothing important at least,” the shorter man sighed. “It’s a shame to lose the seedlings though.”

Already the other citizens were leaving the central room, heading out in all directions alone or in smaller groups.

"The seedlings?" Yaz mumbled worriedly. 

The doctor’s brow was furrowed in concern. She must have been thinking the same thing.

“Sorry, we’re still a little bit turned around… what does quarantine mean?” the Doctor asked.

The others were already leaving and the tall man was gone, which was fine with Yaz, but the woman had stayed behind with them so the Doctor addressed her as she spoke.

“It means it probably sank into the sand,” the woman informed them glumly. “This habitat wasn’t designed to sit on top of the sand like this.” She shuffled her feet, gaze dropping. “I really didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“We believe you,” the Doctor told her kindly. “Do you think you could show us where the newly quarantined zones are? I think I might have left something important in a room with some seedlings…”

“That would be G9,” the woman told her. “I can take you there. It isn’t far.”

“Excellent. Yes, that would be great,” the Doctor replied brightly.

Yaz shot the woman an encouraging smile and she looked between them, almost as if she were taken aback by their friendliness, but she didn’t comment on it.

“This way,” she instructed, walking back the way Yaz and the Doctor had come. “What are your names?” she asked as they followed her back into the hall.

“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor replied.

“Yasmin Khan,” Yaz told her. “Yaz to my friends.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at the Doctor.

“I’m Isra,” she introduced herself. “Chief housing architect… or at least I was supposed to be. But there won’t be any houses until we figure out what happened to the Terra-tech." Under her breath, she added, “I wish they hadn’t woken me up.”

They came to the room that Yaz and the Doctor had arrived in. Only, it wasn’t there anymore. All that remained was the sealed glass door, now closed to a sea of red sand. It went on as far as they could see, soft slopes of it like waves against the dusty horizon.

“Oh, that’s a problem,” the Doctor mumbled.

“Where did it go?” Yaz asked in alarm.

“Sinkhole,” Isra explained. “Don’t worry about whatever’s in there. The drones will dig it back up in a week or so. So as long as it’s not organic it should be OK.”

A whole week? Yaz’s shoulders sank. She didn’t want to spend an entire week stuck here, though she supposed it was better than losing the TARDIS entirely.

“I guess it could be worse,” the Doctor conceded, voicing her thoughts out loud.

Isra shrugged.

“So… uh… do you need anything else?”

“Yes. Can I ask what’s going on with the Terra-tech? ‘Cos I don’t understand why there isn’t anyone trying to fix it.” the Doctor inquired.

“We don’t know where it is. Besides, there’s no one left to fix it,” Isra muttered. “My mum was the engineer in charge of it but she didn’t wake up from the hibernation. Something went wrong with the system sometime after we landed. You two are lucky to be alive.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been very difficult,” the Doctor sympathized.

Beside her, Yaz nodded in agreement. No wonder she’d been so defensive earlier. The tall man’s comments took on a new dimension of cruelty at the new information.

“We all took a risk,” Isra said, not meeting their gaze. “A sixty-percent survival rate is still better than staying on Earth.”

Sixty percent? Yaz’s stomach churned. How bad must things get on Earth for sixty percent to sound reasonable? How long did they have before it got to this? She felt the Doctor’s eyes on her and met them to see that they were sad but not worried.

They were friends, weren't they? And didn't the Doctor know what their future held? Wouldn't she warn them if this was coming in their lifetime? She wouldn’t meddle in the natural course of history, of course, but right or wrong she’d already proven that she’d keep Yaz and the others safe. Her trust in that was enough to dissipate the dread that clouded her chest though it did nothing to rid her of the sorrow in her heart.

Even if this wasn’t going to be her personal future, it was humanities.

“So there really is no way to find the Terra-tech?” the Doctor asked after a pause. “I know a bit about the terraforming technology from this era. I think I might be able to do something if we had it.”

“This era?” Isra repeated, confused.

“She’s a real history enthusiast,” Yaz improvised quickly. “Very into the um…”

“The retro Terra-tech,” the Doctor finished.

“Yeah,” Yaz agreed, bobbing her head. “That.”

“But also, the modern stuff,” the Doctor added.

“Oh, yeah, definitely the modern stuff too,” Yaz agreed.

“I guess I could show you the control room,” Isra decided resignedly. “A pair of fresh eyes wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yes. The control room. Excellent,” the Doctor cheered. “Thank you, Isra.”

Another shrug.

“OK, it’s this way.”

Without waiting to see if they were following, she turned and started walking again. Yaz and the Doctor trailed behind her and Yaz took advantage of the newly formed gap between them to lean over and whisper in the Doctor’s ear.

“What year is this Doctor?”

She couldn’t help it. Whether she'd live to see it or not, she wanted to know when things would get this bad.

“This is about two hundred years in your future,” the Doctor told her gently.

Two hundred years. It was further away than she’d expected but it still felt too close.

“What happens if we don’t find the Terra-tech?” she asked.

Her words were louder this time, carrying ahead to Isra who glanced back at them over her shoulder, her answer as flat as it was dire.

“We all die.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I have no idea how sinkholes work in the desert but this was inspired by the fact that they keep opening up near the city where I'm from and eating people's cars. 
> 
> Also a big thank you to the TARDIS in this story for ruining their date lol. But she has her reasons for bringing them here :P
> 
> Personally, I think the next few chapters are more fun, but I had to introduce a lot of things here and I did my best to make it fun too (excuses, excuses haha). I just feel like this chapter is very transition-ey to get to the stuff I really wanted to write. But hopefully still ok.


	3. The AI-7

The room Isra led them to was the first place in the habitat they saw that wasn’t made of glass. It was a harsh, sterile white that reminded Yaz of the Tsuranga hospital ship. The technology was bulkier though, a circle of regular monitors in the centre above what looked like a large, cylindrical base unit.

The now familiar computer voice greeted them as the entered.

_“Welcome to Central Control. How may I be of assistance?”_

“This is our AI-7,” Isra informed them, gesturing to the central device.

The Doctor’s face lit up.

“AI-7. I love the AI-7,” she exclaimed, bouncing over to examine it. “Great generation,” she informed Yaz cheerfully. “Excellent organizational skills.”

Yaz eyed it curiously, wondering how far from Alexa they’d gotten in the past 200 years.

“It’s just an overhyped database,” Isra dismissed, leaning on the keyboard above the base unit.

“Oi! It is not!” the Doctor defended.

“She likes robots,” Yaz explained at Isra’s frown.

“Not a robot,” the Doctor corrected good-naturedly. “It's an AI interface. Software, not hardware. And it can do a lot more than just store data,” she added, glancing at Isra.

“It runs the habitat’s basic functions too, I guess,” she conceded, unimpressed.

“Like a super advanced smart house,” Yaz summarized.

“And it should be running the Terra-tech,” the Doctor guessed. Isra nodded and her eyebrows furrowed. “So why isn’t it?”

“Maybe it’s malfunctioning?” Yaz supplied.

The Doctor waved her sonic at the base unit and Isra frowned at it, looking more and more bewildered by the minute. 

“It doesn’t look like it is,” the Doctor concluded. “At least the part meant to initiate the Terra-tech is intact.”

“People have looked at it already,” Isra reminded them.

“Yeah, well, fresh eyes, like you said,” the Doctor answered, not looking up.

“Sure,” she allowed unenthusiastically. “I’m not complaining, but it might be better to start where they left off. I can bring up the examination report if you want.”

“Yes. That would helpful,” the Doctor agreed.

As Isra moved to one of the smaller computers lining the room’s outer walls, presumably to retrieve the examination reports, the Doctor continued her scan.

“So, it’s really AI?” Yaz asked quietly when there was some distance between them and Isra. “Can it think?”

“Not in a way you or I could understand,” the Doctor informed her distractedly. “But it is sentient. Sort of. Halfway there- Oh!”

“What did you find?” Yaz asked.

Isra pivoted around from the computer she’d been looking at.

“You found something with that tube-y thing?”

“With my sonic, yeah," the Doctor answered. "Your AI-7's caught a virus."

“That’s impossible.” Isra contested. She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “We were all screened for diseases before boarding the Arc ship. Anyway, everyone knows the synthetic DNA structure makes it impossible for viruses to be transferred from humans to machines.”

“Human viruses,” the Doctor corrected. “Presumably this is a _computer_ virus carried by a human.”

“I’m sorry,” Yaz interrupted, scrambling to wrap her head around what was being said. “You’re saying an actual virus did this?”

“Yeah. Twenty-third-century technology,” the Doctor explained. “Data is stored in synthetic DNA now. It’s a lot more compact. Longer lifespan.”

“The computer’s memory is made out of DNA?” She couldn’t help but grin at that.

“It’s pretty basic stuff,” Isra said.

Yaz huffed in amused disbelief, choosing to disregard the other woman’s condescending tone.

“But it does have a weakness,” the Doctor added. “A biological memory subject to biological pathogens.”

“The virus would have to be able to infect the synthetic DNA,” Isra protested. “Nothing like that exists.”

“Because the computer’s memory has four base pairs instead of your two,” the Doctor added to Yaz.

“Right, we only have GC and AT,” Yaz recalled. “But you’re saying it has two more?”

“Exactly,” the Doctor praised. “Along with a slightly different chemical backbone. Unlike any natural lifeform.”

“So… someone would have had to design an artificial virus to attack the database?” she realized. “Why?”

Who would want to interfere with the Terra-tech? There was nothing to gain from it, it was suicide.

“They might not have meant it to attack this database,” the Doctor guessed.

“I’m telling you two, no one can design a virus to do that,” Isra objected irritably. “The artificial structure doesn’t allow it to be infected.”

“No human,” the Doctor corrected. “Not yet. Other species maybe.”

At last, Isra’s interest was piqued.

“Are you saying aliens did this to us?” she asked.

“Not to you specifically, no,” the Doctor clarified. “I think you may have picked something up during your journey from Earth. A leftover from a careless hacker. It wouldn’t hurt you of course, but you’d act as carries and transfer it to your poor AI-7.”

“How do you know all this stuff about aliens?” Isra questioned. “Were you part of UNIT?”

“Something like that,” the Doctor mumbled, turning her attention back to the AI-7. She crouched beside it, prodding at the surface. “Yeah, I was on their payroll. I think,” she added as she opened a side panel to reveal the internal machinery.

“You had a job?” Yaz asked, surprised.

“Probably,” the Doctor mumbled. “Never did open a bank account to find out.”

“OK… that’s nice,” Isra dismissed, watching her closely. “But what about the Terra-tech? Can you fix it?”

“I can fix your AI-7,” the Doctor said. “Then at least we can figure out where the Terra-tech is. I presume there’s a biochemistry lab somewhere in the habitat?”

“Yeah,” Isra answered.

“And you have access to it?” the Doctor checked.

“Everyone has access to everything now,” Isra informed her. “In case of a sandstorm, doors can’t be locked. It’s a mess but it’s useful sometimes.”  She paused, her expression clouding. “Do you think this virus could be what caused the hibernation system to fail?” 

“This AI-7 is running that too,” the Doctor realized.

Isra nodded soberly.

“It’s running everything. The lighting, the temperature, who wakes up. If there’s something wrong with it…” she trailed off uneasily.

“We could be in a lot of trouble,” Yaz finished.

“Well then,” the Doctor decided, getting to her feet. “We’d better get it fixed.”

/-/-/

It took several hours to identify and remove the rogue strains of DNA the virus had inserted. They were everywhere, little timebombs that could have set the entire habitat into chaos at any moment. Had already killed forty percent of its citizens. It was slow progress, but it had been a while since she’d worked with a proper biochemistry set and despite the dire situation, she found herself enjoying puzzling over a new challenge.

Yaz had fallen asleep between two of the computer chairs, curled up against the rounded back of one while her feet rested on the other. Her workday had finally caught up to her and the Doctor let her rest, covering her with her coat to keep her warm in the heavily air-conditioned room. The cold was optimal for the machines, but not as much so for sleepy humans.

Isra hadn’t taken her eyes off her since she’d started working. She stood opposite Yaz and the Doctor, leaning against the far wall with an unreadable expression. The Doctor got the feeling that the other woman still didn’t entirely trust her, and she was still irked at the way she’d spoken to Yaz earlier, but she wasn’t getting in the way either so she let her be.

 “Got it!” she exclaimed excitedly when the last piece of code was repaired.

Isra straightened instantly, arms still crossed as she strode over to inspect. 

“You’re done?” Yaz mumbled. lifting her head groggily.

After a few blinks and a short stretch, she joined them at the control panel, handing the Doctor her coat with a quite _thanks._

She slid back into it, all too aware of the gentle serenity that seeped through her body as Yaz’s lingering scent and warmth engulfed her. The glow the other woman left in her chest wasn’t something she’d expected to happen, wasn’t part of what she knew she’d planned for this life, but it had happened and in truth wasn’t entirely unwanted. Whatever became of it.

_Remember – hate is always foolish…and love is always wise._

“Should work now,” she predicted, pulling herself out of the memory. “Then we can figure out where the Terra-tech went. You may want to keep people out of this room until you’ve found the carriers. Best to avoid reinfection.”

She sealed the panel, rising to her feet to tap the touch screen on the monitor.

“ _How may I assist you?”_ the AI-7 enquired.

“Can you bring up the location of the Terra-tech please,” the Doctor requested.

 _“Checking for you,”_ it complied cheerfully. A green and black map appeared on the monitor, a blinking dot in the far corner. “ _Now displaying the location of Terra-tech device B12D3.”_

“Yes!” the Doctor cheered.

“You did it,” Yaz grinned, smiling in relief.

“It’s all the way on the other side of the desert,” Isra pouted. “How are we supposed to get it?”

“You don’t have any vehicles?” Yaz asked in surprise.

“Half our trucks are still being dug out,” she informed her frustratedly. “And none of them are designed for sand.”

“You’re kidding,” the Doctor groaned, hearts sinking.

“We were supposed to land in a forest,” she defended, voice rising in exasperation. “No one thought there was going to be a desert here.”

The Doctor allowed herself a sigh before moving past her disappointment. Anyone could focus on the negatives, but it wasn't going to help them. They were just going to have to make the best of what they had.

“That’s fine,” she decided. “We’ll just have to go manually.”

“Manually?” Yaz questioned, tilting her head.

“Walking _,_ ” the Doctor clarified.

“Out there?” Isra questioned skeptically.

“You do have spacesuits, right?” she checked.

“Yeah…” Isra answered.

That was one piece of good news at least.

“Good. Then I think it’s time we call the others together. Tell them what we know and try to figure out a plan,” the Doctor said.

“If we have to involve them, sure,” Isra complied reluctantly.

“Great,” the Doctor replied brusquely, ignoring her tone. “Let’s go.”

Isra frowned, walking off ahead of them, but once again Yaz hung back, regarding her questioningly.

“Doctor, do you really think it’s a good idea for us to go out there?” she asked uncertainly.

“I don’t think there’s much of a choice,” the Doctor reminded her.

Yaz nodded, accepting that. “That’s true.” She lifted her head, solid with determination. “OK. I’m in.”

/-/-/

The Doctor waited until as many of the citizens as possible were in the central room before she announced what they had found. As it filled, she noticed for the first time how tired everyone looked. Their faces were thin, eyes dull. They’d all been through a lot since they’d woken up but, she hoped, this piece of good news would brighten their spirits.

Once the room was satisfactorily full, she plastered a smile onto her face, doing her best to sound positive.

“Great news everyone,” she chirped. “We’ve found the Terra-tech.”

That nabbed their attention, heads lifting, eyes brightening hopefully.

“On the other side of the desert,” Isra added beside her.

The brief moment of lightness was swallowed up in the shadow of her ominous words. The room visibly deflated as shoulders fell.

“I was hoping to break that a little easier,” the Doctor mumbled, frowning at Isra who seemed unfazed by the effect she’d had on the others.

“How are we going to reach it all the way across the desert?” a woman lamented.

“We can walk,” the Doctor announced, with as much confidence as she could.

“That’s suicide!” someone else shouted.

“But we have to try!” another argued. The Doctor bobbed her head encouragingly until he continued. “We should draw straws. Sacrifice someone. It’s only fair.”

“That’s not really-” she started to protest, but soon they were all shouting.

“We should send the most expendable.”

“We should send the oldest.”

“We should send Isra, this is her mother’s fault anyway!”

The Doctor and Yaz glanced toward Isra at the comment but her face was unreadable and the arguing continued.

“We should send a whole group.”

“There aren’t enough spacesuits.”

“I’m not going. You go!”

"I'm too important! Send someone else."

“Shut it!” Yaz’s voice rose over the din. “None of you have to volunteer. The Doctor and I are the ones going.”

The arguing tumbled into silence.

“Why?” someone asked at last, and the Doctor recognized the short man from their first encounter.

“Because someone has to,” the Doctor told him. “And I’ll be the only one going.”

Yaz’s head snapped around, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

“What?” she muttered.

“Because if I find the Terra-tech, I might be able to fix it,” the Doctor announced.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yaz staring accusingly, but she didn’t have time to explain yet. She needed to make them listen so they’d agree to lend her a suit.

There was a chorus of uneasy murmurings throughout the group.

“OK,” the short man agreed and several of the rest nodded along with him. "If you don't come back, at least it will give us more time to decide who goes next.”

The statement was strategic rather than cruel. This man was tired, but he’d kept his head better than many of the others had. Beside her she could see Yaz watching him carefully, noticing the same thing that she had.

“I won’t let you down,” the Doctor vowed. 

At that, the group broke apart, everyone returning to their own desperate roles in keeping the crumbling habitat functioning. It almost seemed as if they’d given up authority to her too easily, but why wouldn’t they? They were scrambling just to stay afloat, and they didn’t know she wasn’t one of them. Someone to give them direction must have seemed more of a relief than a threat.

As the room emptied, the Doctor felt Yaz’s eyes burning into her but she turned to Isra instead, not yet ready for the conversation she knew they needed to have.

“Where are the suits, Isra?” she asked politely.

The other woman glanced between her and Yaz, presumably sensing the tension but not commenting on it.

“This way.”

They left through a new door, down another crop filled corridor, and Yaz kept step beside her, hissing in her ear as the door behind them shut.

“I’m coming with you.”

“I need you here,” the Doctor insisted. “To guard the TARDIS and-”

“Guard the TARDIS?” Yaz complained. “What am I 12? I don't need to be sidelined, Doctor.”

“-and keep the situation here under control,” she finished firmly. “I need someone here to keep the peace until I get back. I’m not sidelining you, I’m mainlining you!”

Yaz relaxed a little at that, though she still looked unhappy and the Doctor felt a brief twinge of regret. Deep down, she wasn’t entirely certain that that was the real reason she wanted Yaz to stay, but it was the reason she was _asking_ her to. As frustrating as the situation was, she couldn’t see a way around it. Somehow though, her friend’s trust in her had been tainted with doubt. There was a disconnect where there hadn’t been before and she hated it.

“Why me?” Yaz asked evenly.

“You heard them back there,” she reminded her. “They’re already ready to throw each other to the wolves. Did anyone else look like they wanted to keep the peace?”

“No… I guess not,” Yaz conceded.  

“There wasn’t supposed to be a crisis here,” she went on. “And there’s no one left who can deal with it.”

“Not the best luck on their part,” Yaz muttered, though to the Doctor’s relief she sounded as if she were coming around.  

“You’re the only one I can trust to keep them all from killing each other before I get back,” she pressed.

“I don’t like it. You out there all on your own,” Yaz complained.

“I’ll be fine,” the Doctor promised, forcing a smile under her anxious gaze. “I’ll just nip out and get their Terraforming device back and then when the TARDIS is all dug up, we can be on our way. We’ll be back home in time for Tea.”

Yaz frowned, searching her face.

“OK,” she agreed reluctantly.

“Are you two coming or not?” Isra called ahead of them. “If you want to go today you should leave while it’s still morning. You don’t want to be caught out there when night falls.”

“Coming,” the Doctor replied, hurrying her pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DNA as data storage is actually a technology being developed. I am not sure how far along it is, but it's supposedly longer lasting and much more compact. Maybe someday our computers will be able to catch a virus.


	4. Desolation

“You’ll have enough oxygen?” Yaz checked, examining the tank strapped to the Doctor’s back.

The suit she wore was bulkier than ones Yaz had seen further into the future but less dauntingly claustrophobic than the suits she’d seen at the National Space Centre in primary school. It was strange, to realize that she was becoming familiar with the stepping stones that human progress would take long after she was gone. She wondered what their short lives must look like to the Doctor, who’d travelled through the ages like this for centuries. How fleeting they must seem.

"Should be enough to walk the ten kilometres to the Terra-tech," the Doctor confirmed. "And back. Your coms are working, in case you need me?”

Yaz touched the small earpiece Isra had given her, activating the short beep that told her it was on.

“Check,” she confirmed. “Everything on alright? No leaks?”

The Doctor gave her two thumbs up.

“Yup. Not my first time wearing this type of suit. You have the TARDIS key?”

Yaz lifted the string she’d used to tie it around her neck.

“I’ll keep it close,” she promised. “But I’m not going to need it… am I?”

“It’s just a precaution,” the Doctor assured her dismissively. “I’ll be back.”

Yaz took a deep breath, stomach knotting. She had a sudden impulse to hug her goodbye but it stung too much like fear and she fought it down. Childish doubts twisted her tongue. What if the Doctor got hurt out there, all alone? What if they couldn’t fix the Terra-tech? What if Yaz couldn’t do what she was asking her to do here?

The last thought was new to her, a scar leftover from what had happened on Earth like the thin ridge of skin along the side of her head, and she fought it back fiercely. Doubt wouldn’t help anyone. She didn’t like them splitting up, but the Doctor was right. This was the best course of action they had.

“And I’ll keep things under control here until you do,” she vowed.

The Doctor smiled at that.

“I’m counting on it,” she answered appreciatively. “I’ll see you soon.”

She pulled on her helmet, shooting Yaz a salute goodbye before backing into the airlock.

“See you soon,” Yaz called as the doors closed between them.

Then the Doctor was walking out into the desert, her footsteps blown away as she left them. From the edge of the habitat, Yaz could see the hills of grey sand that stretched out to the horizon. They rippled under the wind like dried up waves as the Doctor’s shrinking form disappeared into the distance. Dead land under a dead sky.

“It’s pretty desolate out there,” Isra commented, startling Yaz when she appeared behind her.

“She’ll be fine,” Yaz insisted. “She’s the Doctor, she’s always fine.”

“What does that even mean?” Isra questioned.

“It means she’s gotten us out of worse than this,” Yaz told her, gathering up her confidence.

“You’re a strange pair, you know that?” Isra commented suspiciously.

Yaz tilted her head, almost amused at the prickly woman’s comment.

“You have no idea. Now let’s get back to the others.”

/-/-/

It was still raining on Monday night, great globs of it that cluttered the window of Yaz’s hospital room. They pattered against it like a hundred agitated fingers, scattering the light from the streetlamps below.

“Mum, I’ve told you, it’s fine,” Yaz complained.

“It’s not fine. I’m not saying I don’t think the doctors are capable,” Najia pressed. “But you fell three floors-”

“Two and a half,” Yaz corrected flatly.

“-how can they be sure it’s only a sprain?”

“We landed in sand,” Yaz reminded her. “Ana didn’t break anything.”

“Yes, because you took most of the fall,” she countered. “I told you, I just think you need a second opinion. I’ve been checking other doctors and-” 

_“Mum!”_

A knock at the door interrupted their bickering and Yaz let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Ryan peeking in through the doorway.

“Hey,” she greeted fondly, doing her best to sit up.

“Careful,” her mum warned under her breath, but Yaz wasn’t listening so she turned to Ryan instead, smiling politely. “Hello.”

“Care for a bit of company?” he offered. “I’ve brought someone who wants to see you.”

The Doctor poked her head in beside him, looking unsure what to do until Ryan nodded for her to come in. Yaz shot her a small smile when their eyes met, glad to see her again even though it had only been a day. So much had happened since then.

The smile the Doctor returned was tight, something Yaz didn’t recognize sitting just behind her eyes which she quickly hid beneath her usual warmth.

“I brought you a plant,” she offered brightly.

She extended her arms to showcase what was without a doubt the most horrendously ugly plant Yaz had ever seen. It was sludge grey and irregularly shaped, dotted with what looked like warts and peeling near the top, but the Doctor’s enthusiasm as she held it out to her was enough to make her adore it.

She exchanged an amused look with Ryan, who had his lips pressed together to keep down a smirk, before turning her eyes back to the Doctor.

“Thanks,” she said sincerely as the Doctor placed it on the little table at the end of the bed.

It looked even more dismal between the daisies and the roses the others had given her. At least it wasn’t a Venus fly trap. Knowing the Doctor, she’d have brought the one actually from Venus.

“I’ll leave you with your friends,” her mum decided, giving Yaz’s hand a pat before standing up.

Her gaze wandered over the ugly plant as she left but, to her credit, she only smiled at the Doctor and Ryan before letting herself out.

“How are you feeling?” the Doctor asked, hovering beside her bed awkwardly.

Ryan, who she’d already had this conversation with, took one of the chairs near the end of it, curiously examining the Doctor’s gift.

“You can sit down,” Yaz offered, patting the empty mattress beside her. “You won’t hurt me. It’s only my shoulder.”

“And your head,” Ryan added, prodding at one of the warts.

Orange puss seeped out of it at his touch and he grimaced.

“But that doesn’t hurt anymore,” she reminded him. “The doctors said it was fine. Just a bruise. Seriously, it’s fine,” she added, patting again.

At last, the Doctor sat down, settling herself so lightly she could have been a hologram. Nothing more than sound and light.

“This one?” She took her hand, touching it carefully as she asked the question.

“It’s the other one,” Yaz told her.

Soft as a whisper, the Doctor lifted her good hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss her palm before carefully placing it back down. She’d never done anything like that before but the affection behind the gesture was comfortingly familiar, even as it made her heart flutter in her chest. Yaz almost thought she could tell her what was really going on in her head, her doubts over what had happened, her fear over what it meant. Almost, but not quite yet.

“Need anything?” she asked. “Tea? Biscuits? Another pillow?”

“Just company,” Yaz told her warmly. “There’s nothing to do in here all day but watch talk shows.”

And too much time to replay her mistake over and over.

"She says that but she slept all day," Ryan teased.

“Not all day,” Yaz defended.

“You missed her thirteen-hour power nap,” he told the Doctor with a laugh.

Yaz made a face but she was halfway to laughing along with him until she caught sight of the Doctor’s expression.

It was sad in a way she hadn’t seen before, regretful like the Doctor was seeing something that she hadn’t noticed until that moment.

Her heart sunk.

_‘She feels sorry for me,’ she realized. ‘She’s realized I can break.’_

It was gone almost as quickly as the first time, but it left a sour taste in the back of her mouth.

“Sorry. I forgot I wanted to fill out the incident report tonight,” she said abruptly. 

“You don’t have to work while you’re in the hospital,” Ryan protested with a shake of his head.

“I just don’t want to put it off too long,” she improvised. “Sorry. I think it’s better if I do it alone. So I can concentrate.”

“That’s fine. We can come back,” the Doctor assured her.

She stood back up, lifting herself just a little too carefully.

“Thanks for coming,” Yaz chirped, hoping it didn’t sound forced.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Ryan called.

“Thanks,” Yaz replied.

The Doctor lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her uncertainly.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she told her.

Yaz nodded, doing her best to keep her expression bright. The Doctor smiled in return and when her friends were gone, she leaned back against her pillow, alone with her thoughts and the ache in her shoulder that reminded her incessantly of last night’s failure.

/-/-/

The desert was colder than she’d expected but the suit she wore kept out the worst of the frosty wind. She'd been travelling for over an hour, following the beacon on the tablet she'd been given because until a few minutes ago, everything had looked the same.

Now though, the sand parted to give way to a jumble of large jagged stones. They shone under the clear sky, green and purple on black like the wings of a raven, and the tips were worn away to reveal a rainbow of minerals underneath. Off they stretched, getting bigger and bigger until she was certain that the ones off in the distance were taller than she was.

She stopped beside one, allowing herself a minute to marvel at its beauty. The rocks reminded her of something, an old piece of understanding that she was only catching whispers of. Whatever it was, her gut was telling her to move past it quickly.

“Doctor?”

Yaz’s voice through the coms interrupted her thoughts just before she could scan them with her sonic.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“We agreed to check in every hour,” she reminded her.

“Right,” she remembered distractedly. “Everything’s fine on my end. You?”

“I feel like I’m back home solving parking disputes,” Yaz sighed. “But I guess it’s good no one’s done anything too desperate yet.”

“Let’s make sure it stays that way,” she encouraged.

“I will,” she vowed seriously. “Be careful out there.”

“I will.”

With that, the connection was terminated. The Doctor frowned at the stone one more time before moving on. Whatever they were, she wanted to get through them quickly.

/-/-/

“Calm down please madam,” Yaz insisted calmly.

"She's stealing rations!" she accused, shaking a fist at the now purple-eyed woman standing behind Yaz.

They were in the sorting room, so there weren’t any plants, only a sink and three steel tables for sorting the harvests. The collected food was stored in the room next to them. Yaz assumed the door was usually closed but it had been left open when she’d walked in on their argument.

“That’s no reason to resort to hitting each other,” she objected patiently.

“I wasn’t stealing,” the bruised woman said quietly. “I skipped breakfast, I was just taking that too.”

“That’s not how it works,” the first woman hissed. “You took two lunch rations. That’s different from breakfast rations.”

“What about this,” Yaz suggested. “You promise to remember which rations to take next time,” she said looking to the bruised woman. “And you take the time to ask people what’s going on before attacking them?” she added, turning to the other.

The pair frowned at her, unconvinced.

“I know you’re all on edge,” she pushed. “But we all have to cooperate if we want to make it through this. It’s a small habitat, we’re going to be stuck with each other for a while, so let’s try not to make enemies of each other over little problems. What do you reckon?”

In the end, the two women walked away from her still grumbling but the fight was broken up. Hopefully, it would stay that way. She had less authority than her uniform gave her back home, it made it more difficult to do what needed to be done, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. Uniform or not, she knew how to mitigate tension, how to make people feel safe.

“You’re wasting your time,” Isra told her, watching from where she sat atop an empty metal table.

“Then why are you helping me?” Yaz questioned.

She shrugged.

“What else am I going to do?”

Yaz softened a little at that. Though she hid it well, she must have been lonely with everyone else in the habitat turned against her like they were. And she must have been frustrated at having a job she couldn’t do yet.

“Thanks for telling me about these two,” she said.

“Sure,” Isra replied. “What next?”

A good question.

“Who was that man who explained the habitat to me and the Doctor when we met?” she asked. “Not the angry one, but the other one.”

“You mean Hugo?” Isra offered. “Short guy? No hair?”

“I think so,” Yaz answered.

“Why?” she asked.

“I think maybe he can help us,” Yaz explained.

“He’s OK,” Isra agreed. “But he’s pretty busy with the crops. He’s the lead botanist so he doesn’t have time to run around in other people’s business.”

Yaz frowned, grappling against her agitation.

“It’s more important than you think, mate,” she reminded her, allowing a little of it to leak out into her tone. “If people start really fighting over food or anything else, someone could get hurt.”

“We also need someone making sure we have food,” Isra pointed out.

“I’d still like to talk to him,” Yaz insisted.

“Whatever you want,” Isra conceded. “I think I know where he is.”

She led Yaz through the glass building, down long hallways with concrete floors and ultraviolet lights shining down from between the pipes on the ceiling. It felt unfinished, plumbing and electrical circuits exposed, some of the scaffolding still showing above them. In its own way, it was beautiful, green and bright and whirring with life, but it wasn’t a home.

“You said you design living spaces?” she asked conversationally.

“Yeah,” Isra replied. She didn’t elaborate. “You’re some kind of law enforcement?”

“Police officer,” Yaz told her. “Probationary.”

“Guess it makes sense they woke you up,” she commented.

“Guess so,” Yaz agreed. For a moment, she wondered about telling Isra the truth, but quickly decided it would be better to wait until they were out of trouble. “Designing homes for people is important too,” she said instead.

“If we ever get out of this place,” Isra muttered.

“We will,” Yaz predicted optimistically. “The Doctor will find the Terra-tech and then we can start building something more.”  

“Hmm.” She didn’t sound like she believed it. “You put a lot of faith in her.”

“She’s earned it,” Yaz answered simply. “She wouldn’t let me down.”

“If she had a choice,” Isra added dully.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yaz asked, prickling uneasily.

“Sometimes people fail,” she elaborated. “Sometimes they don’t make it.”

Doubt flickered in Yaz’s throat but she swallowed it down.

“She’ll make it,” she said firmly. “I know she will.”

Isra glanced at her, eyebrows raised like someone who thought they knew better.

“I hope so.”


	5. At the End of the Stones

Hospitals were always dismal places. Places of healing, yes, places with brave and hard-working souls, of course, but also places of pain and, all too often, of endings. Despite the name she'd chosen, despite her deep respect for the healers and patients within their walls, the Doctor hated them. Especially so today.

“It looks worse than it is,” Graham explained as the three of them wove together through the hallway.

“I don’t like the tape,” Ryan commented edgily. “It looks like they stopped halfway through patching her up.”

“That’s just how they treat wounds like that,” Graham reminded him gently.

“I know,” Ryan said. “But I still don’t like it. At least now she’s better. Proper awake and having real conversations.” 

“She gave us a bit of a fright last night,” Graham admitted, nodding at Ryan sympathetically. “Her poor mum was up and down the walls, asking for an update every five minutes. She’s fine now though,” he added, his mouth twitching up into a small smile of relief. “You don’t have to look like that, Doc. Really she’s OK.”

The Doctor nodded stiffly, clutching the pot she held between her hands. It was a smooth, ceramic material, cool under her burning fingers, and the very best thing she’d been able to find in her TARDIS.

Her throat burned with shame. So much had happened. So much she’d missed. So much she _could_ _have_ missed.

“You think she’ll like the plant?” she asked as cheerfully as she could through the wedge under her vocal cords. “That’s what people like when they’re sick, isn’t it? Brightens the room. Or is it too late now that she’s better? I’ve never brought a plant before… Should have paid more attention in hospitals.”

“Uh…” Ryan stared at it uncertainly.

“It’s lovely,” Graham assured her.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at the plant but when he met the Doctor’s gaze his own softened.

“She’ll be happy to see you,” he said earnestly. “She’s been asking about you.”

The Doctor swallowed, unsure what to say to that.

They’d arrived at the recovery wing, a single long hallway with green-blue walls that smelled of antiseptic. Yaz was in the third room down, she could see the number of her room from where she stood, and as much as she wanted to see her, she found her feet soldering themselves to the floor.

She’d thought she was getting better at the human things, at being there, but she realized now that she still hadn’t learned how to be there too late. What was she supposed to do now that she’d already failed her? She wanted to run but this wasn’t about her. This was about making sure her friend felt safe.

“I can come with you, if you’d like,” Ryan offered, tilting his head to catch her eye.

She smiled at him, nodding gratefully, and realized she’d barely looked at either of them since they’d arrived, afraid of what she’d see. What she saw in her friend’s face now though wasn’t reproach, it was kindness. Forgiveness she didn’t think she deserved.

“I’d like that, thank you,” she answered softly. 

He set off ahead of her and she followed a short distance behind, listening to the tail end of Yaz’s conversation with her mum, focusing how much like herself Yaz sounded, before Ryan’s appearance interrupted it.

Then it was her turn to go in and she heaved her stony feet forward one at a time, driven by a desire to be better than she was. For Yaz. It was the strongest thing she had and, thankfully, it was enough to get her through the door.

/-/-/

They found Hugo in another nursery; a small, bright room of seedlings potted on shining steel tables. Yaz wondered momentarily what crops they were, but the tiny vivid green leaves could have belonged to anything.

“Green coats please,” he said, not looking up from the seeds he was planting.

“We don’t wear them anywhere else,” Isra complained, doing as he said.

“These seedlings are sensitive,” he reminded her evenly. “I’ve told you that before.”

Yaz took a coat too, sliding it on in place of her jacket which she left on the hook by the door. Isra hopped up onto one of the steel tables, swinging her feet as she watched Hugo work. Hugo frowned at her, disapproving, and Yaz decided not to follow her example.

“I assume you aren’t here about the potatoes,” he ventured.

“No, she’s a cop,” Isra told him, tilting her head towards Yaz. “She’s looking for people who can help her keep the crazy at bay.”

“I just want to get familiar with the other citizens,” Yaz clarified.

“Why did you think of me?” he asked, looking up from his pot.

He was older than she’d thought he was. His baldness had hidden it earlier, but now that they were closer, she could see the deep lines around his dark eyes. When their gazes met, he raised his thin eyebrows, not unkindly but highlighting the question.

“I thought you seemed calmer than the rest of them,” Yaz supplied honestly.

“And you want me to help you settle squabbles the way Isra has been?” he guessed with a glance at the other woman.

“People could get hurt in those squabbles,” Isra defended.

Yaz shot her a quizzical look but she held her tongue. At least she’d gained her agreement.

“Hmm,” Hugo mumbled. “Isra, I’d prefer if you waited outside.”

“What?” Isra complained. “Why?”

“Because she is a police officer and you are not,” he countered firmly. “There may be things I wish to discuss with her that I’d rather remain confidential.”

“Like what?” Isra challenged, arms crossed suspiciously.

“Things I may rather remain confidential,” he repeated, unbudgingly.

Isra groaned. _“Fine.”_

“I’ll see you after,” Yaz said as the other woman stomped past her.

“Sure,” she grumbled.

Once the door was shut behind her, Hugo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head.

"One advantage of glass doors, I know she won't be listening through them," he told Yaz. “I’m glad for your patience with her,” he added gratefully. “Her mother was a good woman, one of the best people I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine what she thinks if she can see her now. Wherever she is.”

“I just think she’s scared,” Yaz pointed out fairly.

“We’re all scared,” he countered.

That hadn’t been what she’d meant, but she let it go.

“What is it you wanted to tell me?” she asked.

He took off the gloves he’d been wearing, weaving around the table with a heavy expression.

“Not tell,” he corrected. “Warn. I know you aren’t one of us.”

Yaz tensed.

“What?”

"I take care of the nurseries," he explained. "I monitor them through the cameras. I saw your ship come in before the sand took it. I have no intention of telling anyone," he added at her alarmed expression. "I only wanted to warn you against it."

“You think someone might try to steal our ship,” Yaz realized.

“Hm,” he agreed. “People are desperate. They’d leave you stranded here with us. I know we aren’t the only human colony out here, maybe they’ll try their luck finding another. Maybe find where you came from.”

“I doubt they’d be able to fly her,” Yaz guessed, just a little smug. “Only the Doctor knows how to do more than get us back home. And the parts she’s taught me are complicated enough.”

“You’ll be able to go home once it’s dug out, and yet she’s still risking herself for us,” Hugo commented quietly.

“It’s sort of what we do,” Yaz answered.

“Advice and assistance obtained immediately,” he quoted the front door. “You really are police, then?”

“Something like that,” Yaz confirmed. “It’s complicated.”

“I don’t need to know more,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “You’re going to help us, that’s enough. Just be careful who you trust. My people are desperate. Not all of them are like Isra and I. Some still have something left to lose.”

“You don’t have any family?” Yaz asked, sympathetic.

“My husband didn’t survive the journey,” he informed her soberly. “Our daughter died on Earth with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” Yaz breathed.

Suddenly she understood why he looked so tired. His heavy shoulders were weighed down by grief she didn’t have the experience to comprehend but which left a prick in her heart all the same.

“So am I,” he said. “But someone needs to keep us fed, so I go on. And I will help you,” he added. “However I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you know if I need anything,” Yaz promised.

His trust in her was a different kind of weight, one she strived to hold up. He gave her a short nod before returning to work, coaxing new life into bloom so that the ones who remained could go on living. All alone but still trying to fix things, he made her think of the Doctor when they'd met her all that time ago.

She left him to it, slipping back out quietly to find Isra. They too had work to do.

/-/-/

It was slow going through the field of stones, but after another hour had passed the Doctor finally spotted the end on the horizon.

This time, it was she who made the check-in, pressing the button on the side of her helmet to turn on the coms.

“Yaz?” she called.

“I’m here,” she answered. “Was just about to call you. Did you find it?”

“Just checking in,” the Doctor told her. “Still have another half kilometre to go. How’s the situation there?

“Stable for now, I guess,” Yaz said, sounding tired. “And I managed to get a few on my side. What’s your oxygen at?”

The Doctor looked down at the readings on her arm.

“Seventy percent,” she reported cheerfully. “Right on schedule.”

“Good. Be careful out there,” Yaz warned.

“Be careful in there,” the Doctor warned back. “Desperate people can be just as dangerous as a desert.”

“I know,” Yaz assured her. “I’ve done this before. What’s it like?”

The Doctor glanced around at the stones, glittering like iridescent scales beneath the sun, and smiled.

“Beautiful. Wish you could see it. There’re these rocks that stick out of the sand here. There are so many colours. Almost as good as the garden I promised you.”

“You’re still taking me, I hope,” Yaz teased, a smile in her voice.

“Of course,” the Doctor promised brightly. “Soon as we sort out this mess. Oh, you’re gonna love it. There’s this one flower that starts out grey and-”

But her words cut out when the wind suddenly picked up, whistling through the stones with a newfound ferocity. It trailed sand across their tips, sparking them like grinding metal with a loud screech.  

“Doctor?” Yaz called.

“Uh… May need to call you back,” she said slowly.

"What's going on?" she demanded, her voice rising in concern.

Another angry gust sliced across the stones, stronger this time, and a few of the larger ones ignited into bright yellow flame.

“No time to explain,” she answered quickly. “Call you back in a minute.”

Without waiting for a reply, she cut off the coms, breaking into a run.

“Calravi gems,” she shouted breathlessly. “Ah, they're Calravi gems. Of course! Stupid mistake.”

The wind picked up, spraying torrents of sand that set the sea of matches around her aflame. The heat of it seared her skin even through her suit, but she kept running, feet flying under her. Soon it was so bright she could barely see and she was terrified she was going to run right into a blaze of yellow and burn up. All she could do was keep herself moving, avoid the brighter patches, not let her terror consume her like the fire consuming the air around her.

Just when she thought her lungs were going to burn out of her chest, she reached the end of it, a sudden drop which she used the last of her energy to leap over. She tumbled down the steep hill of sand, a rolling, sliding mess of limbs until she skidded to a halt at the bottom.

With a painful groan, she rolled stiffly onto her back, sucking in mouthfuls of air, but before she could recover, a sharp hiss from her arm set her hearts hammering against her ribcage. Her gaze snapped towards the source of the sound and she realized in horror that she’d burned a hole through her suit.

“No, no, no, no,” she gasped, quickly pinching it shut between her fingers.

Awkwardly, she struggled to dig through the pouch on her side, managing after several panicked seconds to find what she was looking for; a thin patch of grey fabric.

She set the patch over the hole and it bonded instantly with the suit, sealing the leak. Then, at last, she let herself lay back against the sand, catching her breath.

“They aren’t meant to be so small,” she grumbled to herself. “No wonder I didn’t recognize them, this must be a recent formation. Still, a stupid mistake.”

“Doctor! Are you OK? What’s happening?”

At the sound of her friend’s distress, the Doctor shook herself out of her self pity.

“I’m OK,” she replied. “Glad now that you weren’t here to see the stones though.”

She heard Yaz’s sigh of relief muffled across the speaker.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I’ve discovered that they catch fire under the right circumstances,” she informed her.

“What?” Yaz gasped. “Can you get back?”

“May try to go around,” she decided.

But a quick glance at her oxygen reading changed her mind. The meter read only 30% now.

“But you’re almost there?” Yaz checked.

Her friend sounded shaken up. The feeling was mutual, but there was still work to be done and the Doctor pushed herself to her feet.

“Presumably it’s just over this next hill,” she told her optimistically.

She started to climb, leaving the line open between them.

“It shouldn’t be very big,” Yaz reminded her. “Isra says it's small enough to carry in one hand."

“How are things going with her?” the Doctor asked, searching for a distraction that might calm them down.

“She’s difficult, but I think she wants to help,” Yaz answered honestly.

“I don’t like the way she talks to you,” the Doctor stated matter-of-factly.

“She’s just lost her mum,” Yaz supplied, unperturbed. “I think I can get through to her though.”

“Keep on that then,” the Doctor encouraged. She’d almost reached the top of the dune, one last step pulling her over the edge. “That wasn’t so bad,” she chirped. Then she caught sight of what lay below and she bit her tongue. “Oh.”

“What now?” Yaz asked warily.

“Nothing dangerous,” the Doctor assured. “But… um… That might be a problem.”

What she saw on the other side of the hill wasn’t the Terra-tech, nor was it more desert. She saw a building, round and dull grey and unmistakably not human architecture. It was about as big as the habitat she’d left Yaz in, and on top, there was a chimney pouring out what she presumed were the toxins they'd been told were building up in the atmosphere. 

“What did you find,” Yaz pressed.

“I think I’ve found who turned off the Terra-tech.”


	6. Bit of a Bigger Problem

The Doctor approached the alien building cautiously, uncertain what she was walking into. She’d promised Yaz to keep her updated but she’d also told the other woman to keep the line quiet in case she needed to be stealthy. There’d been a tension between them pulled taught across the kilometres of desert. Neither of them liked being cut off from each other, but it was what it was and the Doctor was no stranger to handling things alone.

The front door was round, metal, and easily opened by her sonic. She passed through an airlock, another flavour of the one the humans had, though this one was round like a bubble. Inside of the building, the hallways were iron-brown tubes. Portholes lined the ceiling, and her suit told her that the air inside was just as toxic as it was outside. More so even.

“Oh,” she breathed, realization hitting her like a cold wave. “Oh. That’s complicated. What are we supposed to do about that?”

Something scuffled against the wall and she looked up from the display on her arm to see a smooth, head, peeking out from one of the rounded doorways.

The being was about half her height, with skin nearly the same colour as the walls and two sets of large black eyes. They waved a long tongue at her, tasting the air.

“It’s alright,” she assured them, raising her hands unthreateningly. “I’m just here for answers. And I think I’ve just found them but it doesn’t make things easy for anyone I’m afraid. Ah, why can’t it ever be easy?”

“Who are you?” they asked.

They pulled themselves into the hallway, revealing the rest of their body, long and leggy like a centipede. A Podatrian, she noted. Clever species, about the same level technologically as humans, but better at understanding abstract concepts and surprisingly bad at maths. She didn’t think the two species had ever met. Oxygen was toxic to them.

“I’m the Doctor,” she introduced. “I’m here on behalf of the human colony on this planet.”

Their feet rippled down their body.

“Human?” they echoed. “That is what you are?”

“Timelord actually,” she corrected. “But we’re close, I supposed. Closer than you are to them.”

“I don’t understand,” they replied.

“No, right,” she mumbled, pressing her hands to her helmet. “Too many things to explain. I presume you’re Terraforming this planet?”

“It is to be a home for me and my brood,” they explained. "We were set adrift after our homeworld was destroyed. One brood of many."

“And you really need _this_ planet?” she checked hopefully, gesturing up through the porthole. “Because there’re a whole bunch of other ones, ripe for the taking.”

“This is the only one that fits our parameters. The right size, the right temperature, the right composition,” the answered. “There are no others for twenty-eight billion millisteps.”

“Of course, there aren’t,” the Doctor sighed.

“We would share with your humans,” they offered.

“That’s good of you,” she praised earnestly. “Really neighbourly. Exactly what I like to hear. But you can’t.”

Their eyes swivelled over her carefully.

“You are bathed in poison,” they told her, catching up swiftly. “It was your device that was polluting this world.”

“Oh, you have it!” she exclaimed. “Brilliant! I need it back, please.”

Spots glowed fluorescent blue down their body.

“We will not give it back. It will pollute this world,” they objected.

“That’d be the brood mind speaking,” she guessed.

Podatrains had two brains, intimately intertwined from birth. One was the individual and the other a piece of the collective brood mind.

“We will not give it back,” they repeated. “You will come with me.”   

“Not so neighbourly anymore. We really do need it back,” she insisted, not moving.

The spots glowed red, their voice rising.

“You will come with me.”

“Alright, alright, no need to be pushy,” she shot back. “Can I just call my friend first?”

“You shall not contact your brood,” they objected.

“Not my brood, just my friend,” she insisted. “Just one person. We aren’t like you. We don’t have a hive mind. She’ll be worried.”

“This is none of our concern,” they dismissed.

“It will be your concern if they send someone to look for me,” the Doctor objected testily.

The Podatrian hesitated, spots lighting blue, red and green in a dizzying pattern. She noted it carefully, wondering if there was a way to visually ascertain what they were saying to each other. There must have been a reason for the display. To communicate with other broods maybe?

“We will allow it,” they decided. “Tell them you are our prisoner and if another comes, we will dispatch you.”

“Ah, mate, I’m really not someone you want as a hostage,” she warned, processing quickly. “You sure you don’t want to take that down a notch?” The red lights returned and she frowned. “Have it your way. Just a sec.”

Slowly, she hit the button on the side of her neck to turn on the coms.

“Yaz?”

“What did you find?” she replied immediately.

“Um. Bit of a problem,” she began.

“You said that before,” Yaz reminded her warily.

“Right, bit of a bigger problem,” she elaborated, meeting the Podatrian’s gaze. “Now don’t panic but I’ve run into the beings who made the building. They’re Podatrian and not keen on sharing this planet. Can’t share it, actually. A human-friendly atmosphere would be toxic to them and vice versa. Oh, and they’re holding me hostage now.”

“And,” the Podatrian prompted.

She made a face at them.

“And they want me to tell you that they’ll _dispatch_ me if you send anyone else,” she told her calmly. “Pushy,” she mouthed to the Podatrian.

“What do we do?” Yaz asked, alarmed but not panicked.

Good. That was good. The Doctor almost smiled. Of course, she could trust Yaz to keep her head.

“Well, for starters, don’t send anyone out,” she told her. “Try to keep everyone calm. I still think there’s a chance we can talk this through.”

She stared meaningfully at the Podatrian as she spoke but neither the lights nor any of their appendages shifted to show they were acknowledging her words.

“Do the aliens have the Terra-tech?” Yaz asked.

The Doctor rose her eyebrows questioningly at her captor.

“We have it,” they said. “Tell the human we will destroy it if they test us.”

“Got that, Yaz?” the Doctor checked.

“Got it,” she answered curtly.

“Wait for my call,” the Doctor instructed. “Don’t let anyone do anything reckless.”

“I’ll do what I can here,” she agreed. Then she paused, and when she spoke again her voice wavered for the first time. “Doctor, you’re still taking me to that garden?”

“Promise,” the Doctor replied confidently. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” Yaz echoed.

She hung up, scared for both of them but adamant not to show it. The Podatrian’s eyes had swivelled over her rapidly as she’d said her goodbyes but if they thought what had been exchanged between her and Yaz was a weak point they were sorely mistaken.

“So,” she asked, lifting her chin. “Where to now?”

“Follow me,” the Potatrian instructed, feet rippling down their body like a wave as they turned in the tunnel.

The Doctor padded behind on her two Timelord feet, wishing they’d met some other way. She didn’t want to hurt them, especially not when they were just trying to keep themselves alive, but if they were going to threaten the other inhabitants of this planet, threaten Yaz, she was going to be the immovable object standing in their way.

/-/-/

After the line was broken, Yaz took a few deep breaths, determined to keep herself calm. She needed to tell the citizens what had happened, and she needed to do it in a way that wouldn’t cause a panic. What she needed was a reassurance, something that would help them feel safe, but she couldn't see what that was yet.

It was getting late in the day, orange sunlight trickling in from the ceiling and the AI-7 had turned on violet lights to replace it for the plants. It was almost soothing, reflecting black off the bushy tomato leaves she’d hidden among while taking the Doctor’s call.

“Aliens have it?”

Yaz spun around to find Isra watching her from the entrance to the little room. The sliding glass door had been left open and she leaned against the frame, her arms crossed.

“How much did you hear?” she asked.

“Enough,” Isra answered tersely.

“Good,” Yaz said, recovering swiftly. “I wasn’t going to hide it from you. From any of you.”

It wasn’t how she’d wanted her to find out, but at least now it was out in the open.

“You’re gonna try and convince us to cooperate with them,” she accused.

“To reach an agreement, yes,” Yaz confirmed evenly. “And I could use your help.”

“No, you don’t,” she muttered. “No one needs me. Those things are what killed my mum, aren’t they? They’re where the virus came from.”

The question took Yaz by surprise, but it made sense. The Doctor had said the virus could have come from an alien ship, and now they’d found aliens who were close enough to have contaminated them.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” she admitted.

Isra’s eyes flared.

“Then we should just kill them and get it over with,” she growled.

“If they are where the virus came from, we don’t know that they attacked the system on purpose,” Yaz pointed out. “They might be innocent people, just trying to survive like we are.”

“People?” she repeated disbelievingly.

“Yes, people!” Yaz pressed. “And don’t forget the Doctor’s over there too.”

“I’m not losing this planet just because your idiot girlfriend is going to get herself killed,” Isra snapped. “It’s her own fault for going out there in the first place!”

The statement struck a nerve, but Yaz clamped her mouth shut, realizing that her anger came just as much out of fear as Isra’s did. The stinging retort on the tip of her tongue had been borne from the bitter knot of dread in the pit of her stomach. She was angry because she was afraid for the Doctor. So, what was Isra afraid of?

“You don’t have to do that you know,” she told her evenly.

“Do what?” Isra grumbled.

“Push people away,” Yaz answered.

She scoffed.

“It makes it easier, doesn’t it?” she guessed. “Be cruel to them before they do it to you. But from my experience, it's not worth it. It's better to be kind, even when others might not be. Because usually being kind gets things done a lot better than being hostile.”

“You don’t know me,” Isra accused, looking away. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

“No. I know that,” Yaz agreed. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I do know what it’s like to have everyone turned against you. I had a really tough year when I was a kid. A girl who used to be my friend turned our whole class against me. And you know, the thing about it being everyone was that no matter how mad what they were saying was, eventually a part of me started to believe everyone I met was going to hurt me like they were. I was so scared of that pain that I fooled myself into believing the loneliness was better. But I have friends now. Good ones. Ones who’d never hurt me like that. And they’re worth the trust I have in them.”

“What are you trying to say?” Isra muttered.

“I’m saying that what the others are making you feel isn’t right,” Yaz pushed. “There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re just with the wrong people. So, don’t let them turn you into something you’re not.”

She tilted her head as she spoke, trying to meet the other woman’s gaze, but Isra wouldn’t budge.  

“There’s no one else,” she said under her breath.  

“There’s me,” Yaz insisted. “There’s the Doctor. There’s the other people who we’ll wake up when she brings back the Terra-tech.”

That startled her enough that she looked up.

“You like me?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” Yaz affirmed sincerely. “When you’re not insulting us. I like that you kept trying to help us. I think it’s brave. Other people will too.”

Isra hesitated, searching her face.

“Are you afraid for her?” she asked after a moment, softening a little.

“Constantly,” Yaz admitted.

Isra’s shoulders fell, her dark eyes bright with sympathy.

“I don’t really want the Doctor to get hurt,” she apologized.  “I don’t want to lose anyone else, like I lost my mum. And I don’t want them to destroy the Terra-tech.”

“I know,” Yaz assured her.

“But I’m not the only one who lost someone to that virus,” she went on pessimistically. “And I don’t see another way out of this. Neither will anyone else.”

“Then we’ll have to think of something before we talk to them,” Yaz decided.  

“We?” Isra questioned, eyebrows raised.

“I meant what I said, I could really use your help.”

Isra bit her lip and Yaz knew she was scared but she also believed she could be brave too. Which was why her answer didn’t surprise her.

“We can try.”

 


	7. The Mutualistic Connection

The Podatrian forced the Doctor deeper and deeper under the ground. There were no stairs in their building, only steeply inclined hallways leading to flat, wide levels. Pale blue lights lined the ceiling and the further down she went, the lower it became so that eventually, she had to duck to avoid scraping her head against it.

“You must have something on your feet that lets you grip onto this floor,” she speculated after slipping down another incline. She tilted her head towards them as she waited for them to climb down. “No shoes, so your feet must be doing something.”

“Your feet are of little use if you are so willing to cover them up,” they countered, flicking their tongue at her shoes.

“They’ve gotten me this far,” she defended. “Well, not _these_ feet. These feet are actually fairly new. Long story.”

“All humans are this preoccupied with feet?” they asked, pushing her along to the next incline.

“I’m not human,” she repeated.

“The humans care for you,” they stated. “They speak to you like one of their brood.”

“Not they. Just that one,” the Doctor corrected. “I keep telling you, they don’t have broods. Families yeah, but it’s different.”

“It does not matter,” the Podatrian objected, grabbing her around the waist with their front hands before she slid down another incline.

“It does,” she insisted, struggling not to slide on the sharp slope. “If you want to make a deal with them.”

“There will be no deal,” they told her.

The Doctor gave up walking for herself, leaving her feet limp so that they could carry her down.

“What’s the plan then?” she challenged. “Keep me prisoner long enough for them to starve to death? Because they won’t do that. They’ll try to get the Terra-tech back by force if you make them desperate enough.”

They set her down at the bottom and she was walking on her own again, crouching as she crossed the flat platform to the next incline.

“They are bonded to you,” they said. “We heard their mutualistic fear when they spoke. They hesitate to risk one of their brood. Their hesitation will make them malleable.”

“Ugh, you aren’t listening!” the Doctor grumbled. “There’s no they. There’s just one human. She’s my equivalent to your collective. The rest aren’t ours.”

“You have a brood of two?” For the first time, they sounded uncertain.

“Four actually,” she supplied, encouraged. “The rest aren’t here though. And we're not a brood we're… oh, it doesn't matter! Your plan won't work because you don't understand human beings. The only thing you’re going to do is start a war.”  

The Podatrian hesitated, blinking with colours, and this time the Doctor thought she saw a pattern in them.

"We are listening," they told her, stopping before the next incline.

“Great. Really appreciate that,” she replied, lifting her hands as she searched for what to say. “Podatrians within a brood are linked through a single collective. Hundreds of you all feeling as one. If you kill one, the rest will suffer too. That’s why you’re such a peaceful species, the casualties of war would be too painful to bear. It’d be torture.”

“We have not had such barbarism for thousands of years,” they informed her.

“Human’s aren’t like that,” she said.

Their legs rippled.

“You will explain.”

“Human broods- they call them families- are smaller,” she went on. “The bond between them... It’s intense. Powerful. But there’s no singular mind that connects them. They can’t feel each other’s pain the way you do.”

The Podatrian's body arched in the middle for a moment, like a centipede about to curl into a ball, and the Doctor recognized the species’ gesture of disgust.

“Your humans are a loveless species,” they stated.

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” the Doctor protested.

“You are trying to communicate that they cannot be reasoned with,” they replied. “They are selfish.”

“No! Don’t put words in my mouth, that isn’t what I meant,” she argued. “They are capable of love. Spectacularly beautiful displays of love, just not in a way you understand.”

“There can be no real love without a mutualistic connection,” the Podatrian asserted. “You are alone. Isolates. There can be no reasoning with a species which has no empathy.”

“You just said you heard a mutualistic connection between me and my human friend,” the Doctor reminded them, frustrated. “That’s real!”

“Without the collective, it cannot be real. It must be a lesser copy of the real thing,” they decided. “The humans cannot be reasoned with. They cannot be persuaded. They must be destroyed.”

“What! You can’t do that!” she exclaimed.

“We can. We will send a missile to where you came from,” they pressed, glowing with what she could tell were instructions of attack. “It will destroy them all.”

Anger sparked in her chest.

“Oh no, you’re not,” she snarled.

She pointed her sonic at the coms on her neck, bracing herself before letting it fire off a high-pitched screech that shrilled through her head like a shard of glass. It hit the Podatrian worse though, disrupting the communication with their collective and replacing it with a disorienting flush of nonsense.

Isolated and terrified, they let out a shriek of their own, bulking away from her long enough for her scurry away. Instead of moving up, she ran for the next slope, sliding down it, putting as much distance as she could between them. She wasn’t going to get away, she knew that, but she didn’t need to. She just needed time.

She pointed her sonic back at her neck, mercifully ending the agonizing shrill in her ears, and opened the connection to Yaz again.

“Yaz? Are you there?”

“Are you OK?” came her instant reply.

“Fine for now,” she said brusquely. “But you need to warn the citizens. They’re going to send a bomb!”

“What?” she gasped. “What do we do?”

"Ask the others," she instructed. "See if they have shields, interference, anything. They must have some sort of defence system."

“They aren’t very prepared out here, Doctor,” she reminded her soberly.

“Well the Podatrians don’t need to know that,” she whispered.

There was more she wanted to say, but already her captor was on her, nimbler than she was in their own environment. They snatched her by her ankle, throwing her onto her back with a thud that knocked the breath out of her.

“What’s happening?” Yaz demanded, hearing the commotion.

“Caught up,” she grimaced.

The Podatrain pinned her chest with three legs, stronger than she’d thought they’d be, pressing until she choked when she tried to speak.

“You will break the connection,” they ordered.

“Leave her alone!” Yaz shouted.

The fear in her voice was palpable, squeezing at the Doctor’s chest almost as much as the Podatrian was and she hated to leave her in it but she couldn’t breathe.

_I’m sorry, Yaz._

With great effort, she managed to move her arm to the side of her neck and switch off the connection. The moment she did, the weight on her chest lifted and she gasped in long, hungry breaths of the precious little air remaining in her suit.

“You… didn’t have to… do that…” she was able to say eventually.

 “Your attempt to escape made it necessary,” they countered coldly.

"Not escape," she corrected, struggling to her feet. "A warning. They know what you're up to and they have a defence system in place. Your plan won't work."

“You are lying,” the Podatrian said.

"You sure?" she challenged. "You've lost the element of surprise. Without that, you're pretty much equal. Logistically, technologically. You sure you want to risk starting a fight you don’t know you can win?”

The lights blinked again, filled with uncertainty. Good. That was all she needed. Hopefully, it would last long enough for Yaz and the others to come up with a real plan.

/-/-/

“Doctor!” Yaz called again, frantic now, but the line was dead and it wasn’t reopening.

“What’s going on?” Isra asked.

They’d been halfway to calling a meeting with the rest of the citizens when the Doctor had called her. At first, she’d been relieved to hear her voice, but something had gone terribly wrong. The Podatrian had hurt her somehow, she’d heard the grimace in her breath at the end. The last thing she’d heard from her before the connection had been broken was pain.

Timelords were sturdier than humans, they survived harsher, they could regenerate, but they weren't indestructible. They could die and they could hurt. Her friend was hurt but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Then there was the missile, an unclassified threat looming over all of them. What kind of missile? When would they send it? Had they launched it already?

“Yaz?”

Isra’s alarm yanked her out of her thoughts and she realized she’d been frozen. Her stomach hurt. She didn’t do that, she didn’t freeze. What was wrong with her? Why did it feel like the fall five weeks had cracked more than skin and bone?

She’d failed Ana, and if she failed here the Doctor could die. And then so could everyone else. She couldn’t have that.

“She said they’re sending a missile,” she told Isra grimly. “We need to warn the others. Put up shields.”

“We don’t have shields,” Isra objected. “What missile? When?”

“I don’t know,” Yaz confessed miserably. “They cut her off. She wasn’t supposed to warn us. We need to tell the others,” she insisted, already setting off. “There’s got to be someone who knows how to defend this place.”

“If we go to the central room, we can call everyone there,” Isra suggested. “It’s the most secure place we have anyway. Toughest material, shielded by the rest of the building.”

“Lead the way,” Yaz agreed.

The habitat felt like a maze to her, but Isra seemed to know the corridors, as well as Yaz, knew the streets of Sheffield and they soon found themselves in the central room that she and the Doctor had first been ushered into. Isra pulled a lever on what looked like a blue fire alarm and the lights and sirens sounded again all around them.

_“All citizens please take shelter in the centre. All citizens please take shelter in the center. All citizens…”_

People streamed in from all sides, looking up watchfully through the roof for signs of another sandstorm. Yaz wished it were something so innocuous.

“What’s all this?” someone complained over the din of confused voices. “There’s no storm coming! I’ve seen the radar!”

“No, there’s a missile coming,” Yaz announced loudly. “We aren’t the only ones here, and the others don’t want to share.”

The statement was blunt but effective, plunging the room into terrified silence. There was no time to ease them into it, they needed solutions now.

“What are you two on about?” someone growled.

It was the man they’d met when they’d first arrived, the one who’d pushed Isra, and he eyed the other woman coldly as he spoke.

“The Doctor made contact with the people who took the Terra-tech,” Yaz answered, unflinching under his glare. “They don’t like that we’re here.”

“That’s insane,” someone else objected. “There’s enough space for everyone! Why would they turn off the Terra-tech? It was making the planet habitable for them too!”

“It wasn’t,” Yaz informed them. “They aren’t humans. They’re called Podatrians. They need a different atmosphere than we do to survive. What’s poison to us is vital to them and vice versa.”

“We have missiles of our own,” one woman said. “For blasting through rock but they’ll do the same job with these aliens.”

 _“_ You can’t just bomb them!” Yaz objected, alarmed. “Besides, the Doctor’s still over there!

“So?” the bully man questioned.

 “SO! She’s trying to help you!” she exclaimed angrily.  

“You’re letting your personal attachments get in the way of what needs to be done,” he accused, his cruelty was a sour smell and she wrinkled her nose against it as he spoke. “One life isn’t worth all of ours.”

“I’m not!” she protested. “This is mad! And it won’t solve the problem! If they see your missile coming, they’ll just fire their own.”  

“Or they’ll back down,” he argued. “Call her again. Tell her to tell them we’re sending a missile if they don’t unarm themselves.”

“No,” she objected.

“You can’t stop us from sending the missile,” he warned. “Or from calling her ourselves. I’m giving you a chance to tell her yourself.”

Yaz glared at him, furious at how little control she had. Furious that she didn’t know what else to do. At least it was a threat rather than a strike. Maybe the Doctor would have more information for her to work with. Either way, she was aching to know if she was alright.

“I’ll call her,” she conceded at last.

She touched the com on her neck, praying that this time she'd get an answer.

 


	8. Negotiation

It had been almost twenty minutes and the Podatrians still hadn’t reached a decision. Lights blinked up and down the length of the one standing over the Doctor, an agitated frenzy of colours.

She sat leaning against the curved underground wall, watching them as she worked to keep her breathing even. Her chest still hurt but she wanted to preserve what oxygen she had left. Glancing now at the reading on her arm, she saw she was down to twenty percent. It was worrying, but not her most pressing problem.

“Why are you so willing to throw their lives away?” she asked, searching for something useful to do with the time.

“They are responsible for the death of three of our brood,” the Podatrian explained distractedly. “Upon our landing, they emerged to the wrong atmosphere. The oxygen killed them. We deployed a virus to ensure no other devices would function, but it was too late to save the three.”

“A virus? So, it was you,” she realized. “But you weren’t trying to hurt anyone. And neither were they. Neither one of you has hurt the other on purpose yet. You don’t have to start now. You can stop this, work together.”

“They stand in our way,” they said, speaking as the collective. “We will destroy them.”

The words came so easily that her stomach soured in disgust. She couldn’t help but think of Yaz. Her brave young friend from Sheffield who dreamt of changing the world, who reached out to people when they were scared, made them feel safe. Her heart was an ever-expanding universe of wonder and beauty just like every single being in that habitat. To love one as she did was to see how precious each life was. To be blind to that was to be as loveless as the Podatrians claimed the humans to be.

“You can’t just throw people’s lives away like that!” she spat. “You don’t just throw people away because it’s too hard to do the right thing. You find a way that we all get to live.”

“The humans are not worth saving,” they dismissed.

Something dangerous crept out into her expression, the smouldering edge of the fury she still held inside of her and when she spoke again each word was a knife.

“But they’re going to be. By me. Always have, always will. And my friend is over there, so now it’s personal. You’re not harming her or any of the rest of them.”

Her oxygen alarm sounded. Her heart rate was too high, the concentration left in her suit too low.

“It would be wiser to remain calm so as not to deplete your resources,” they advised patronizingly.

“This won’t stop me,” she warned.

“Doctor?”

Yaz’s voice called to her through the coms, sounding no less frightened than it had before but she met the Podatrian’s gaze before lifting her hand to answer it.

“You might want me to get this,” she warned bitterly when it didn’t grant permission. “You never know what those heartless humans will do.”

They hesitated briefly.

“You will answer it,” they conceded after a moment.

Her hand flew up before the phrase was complete, her anger melting into tenderness so quickly that her softened voice sounded like it belonged to a different person.

“I’m here,” she answered, hiding her breathlessness behind short phrases. “I’m OK.”

 “They didn’t hurt you?” she checked.

“No. Just knocked the wind out of me,” she assured her. “What’s happening there?”

She heard Yaz sigh with relief but when she spoke her voice was still thick.

“I’m sorry,” she answered miserably. “I couldn’t stop them. They’re threatening to bomb the aliens.”

“Can’t stop these ones either,” she reminded her grimly. "Maybe we should let them talk to each other, not just through us?"

“That would be preferred,” the Podatrian chimed in.

“You reckon that’s a good idea?” Yaz questioned hesitantly.

“Dunno,” the Doctor admitted, ignoring the Podatrian’s agitation when she responded to Yaz instead of them. "I'm hoping if they realize there are real people on the other end, they won't be so eager to annihilate them.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Yaz conceded half-heartedly.

“Don’t know what else we can try,” the Doctor sighed. Then, realizing in dismay that this was as close to a private conversation as they were going to have, she added. “But I promise I will do everything I can to keep you safe.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Yaz objected bravely. “We’ll still have each other. We’re going to figure this out, right?”

Despite everything, the Doctor’s eyes lit with the ghost of a smile. Yaz had a way of reaching the parts of her soul she hadn’t realized could still be touched. Like a flash of fire, warming a long empty cavern, it was fleeting but enough to leave her stronger than she’d been before. Even across a distance, it turned out.

“Right,” she agreed, putting as much of what she couldn’t say into that one word as she was able. It wasn’t enough, it could never be enough, but there wasn’t time for anything else with the Podatrian glowering at her. “Can you find a speaker system where you are? Put me through that?”

“You’re thinking you can adjust the coms from there?” Yaz guessed.

“So that everyone can understand each other,” the Doctor explained. “ _Alien_ technology,” she added, looking to the Podatrian as if she were speaking to them, and hoping Yaz would catch the double meaning of what she was saying.

“Our two species have different technologies then,” Yaz noted, not disappointing her. “That will let you fix it so we can all communicate.”

It was delicate, phrasing what they meant in such a way that the Podatrians would think the technology came from the humans and the humans listening thought that the technology came from the Podatrians, and she was glad it was Yaz on the other end of the line. 

“Found the speakers yet?” she asked.

“Yes, Isra’s turning them on,” Yaz, answered.

“And there’s a microphone so the Podatrians will hear what they have to say?” she checked.

“Yes,” Yaz confirmed.

“Great,” she said, turning her sonic towards the coms again. The Podatrian flinched at the sight of it, curling in on themselves. “Just making an adjustment this time,” she assured them. “So that everyone can understand each other.”

It was good though, that she could scare them. It meant she wasn’t as helpless as she’d thought.

Setting the thought aside, she used her sonic to reconfigure the coms and connect them to the TARDIS’s translation systems. If only they could all understand each other, maybe they could come to a peaceful solution.

“Testing, testing, fish fingers and custard," she called. "Everyone hear me?"

“What on Earth is she on about?” one of the citizens complained.

“Brilliant,” the Doctor chirped. “So, the speakers are working. Did you get that?” she added to the Podatrian.

“The humans question your nonsensical speech patterns,” the Podatrian described.

She gave them a thumbs up.

“The Podatrians have got it,” she encouraged. “What about the humans?”

“We heard it,” came an impatient voice and she recognized the man who had pushed Isra.

“Them,” the doctor corrected.

“They are an aggressive species,” the Podatrian complained.

“That’s just two of them,” the Doctor defended. She waved her arms at the Podatrian invitingly. “Whenever you’re ready to start negotiating.”

“Give us the Terra-tech back or we’ll blow you off our planet,” the same man threatened.

The Podatrian’s legs rippled, red lights streaming along their length and the Doctor rubbed her forehead in frustration.

“You will dismantle your weapons, or we will destroy the device and you,” the Podatrian countered.

“Can I suggest something?” Yaz interjected. “Why don’t the Podatrians give us back the Terra-tech and no one blows anyone up?”

“Returning the device will allow you to use it,” the Podatrian protested. “Already two of our brood have been killed by the poison it emits.”

“What if they agreed not to use it,” the Doctor suggested.

“Then we’d be back where we started!” another human objected. “We should blow them up and destroy _their_ device. It’s poisoning this planet!”

“If we fire our missile, they’ll fire theirs and then we’ll be back where we all started _and dead_ ,” Yaz pressed, clearly frustrated.

“This human is correct,” the Podatrian confirmed. “Any attack will be countered.”

“We want our Terra-tech back,” another human insisted, backed up by several murmurs of agreement. “We’ll give you… twenty minutes… to come to a decision. Then we’ll send our missile. We’ll call you.”

The connection was terminated abruptly, giving the Doctor no chance to argue or to say goodbye to Yaz. She hissed out an exasperated breath between her teeth, grabbing at the empty air.

“Why can’t they ever just cooperate?” she muttered.

“This unit of time is not familiar to us,” the Podatrian told her.

“It’s alright, I can measure it,” the Doctor assured them warily, glancing at the clock on her arm. “It’s not very long. A minute is sixty seconds and a second is just like counting to one. You’ve got twelve-hundred of those.”  

“This is unreasonable,” they complained.

She laughed harshly.

“Finally, we’re in agreement.”

/-/-/

Back in the central room, the citizens were a mess of conflicted indecision. Yaz could barely hear herself think over the din of their shouting. It was clear that they were scared, that they were angry at what the Podatrians had done. That they didn’t care what happened to the Doctor.

_We’re going to figure this out, right?_

Yaz wasn’t entirely sure she believed her own words. She wished she hadn’t let the Doctor go out there on her own. That they really were still together.

“We should send the missile now, while they’re not expecting it,” the tall man shouted.

His voice carried over the crowd, angering Yaz out of her doubts.

“That’s a good way to get all of us killed,” she accused sharply. “We’re not doing that.”

“Who put you in charge?” he challenged.

“Who put _you_ in charge,” she countered.

He laughed at her, dismissive in a way that was familiar enough to make her wonder if sexism still existed two hundred years into the future. Maybe he thought she was young and foolish. Maybe it was one of the multitudes of other reasons people failed to take her seriously. She didn’t know, and she didn’t have time for it.

“Truth is, no one’s in charge here,” she pressed stubbornly. “But the Doctor is out there in the line of fire, doing everything she can to stop them from doing exactly what you’re suggesting.”

The crowd murmured uneasily at that and she hesitated, carefully planning her next phrasing.

“I’ve known the Doctor for a while now. I met her back on Earth. She’s shown me more of the universe than I’ve ever imagined existed. I've seen things, travelling with her, both wonderful and awful. People doing horrible things, tearing each other apart because they were scared. They were so scared they forgot the ones they were hurting were people. I’ve seen the damage that mistake’s done to strangers, to my own family. It’s not worth it.”

“These things aren’t human. They aren’t people,” the man scoffed.

“Of course, they are,” she argued. “They want the same things we do. Safety, peace. They deserve that just as much as us.”

“We need this planet,” a woman shouted fearfully. “We’ll die without it. We can’t both have it.”

Yaz stared at her, mind churning at what she said.

_We can’t both have it._

One planet, two species. One space, two cars. It was the same, she realized with a jolt. This was a parking dispute. The stakes were much deadlier, but at its core, it was the same idea. 

She knew how to do this… she hoped.

“I know that you’re scared of what’s going to happen,” she began. “But a fight right now isn’t your best option. The Doctor is over there trying to work out a compromise. If anyone can get them to stand down, it’s her.”

Step one, acknowledge the conflict and dissuade them from the destructive solution.

“You trust her with this?” the same woman questioned skeptically.

“I’ve trusted her with my life, quite a few times over, and she hasn’t let me down yet,” Yaz answered confidently. “But I had to trust her, even before I knew her, and if I hadn’t then I might not be standing here now. Sending off that missile _is_ going to get everyone in here killed, but if we try to cooperate with them instead, if we work together, maybe all of us can make it out of this alive. There must be something we can do.”

Step two, provide an alternative solution. Ensure the alternative solution sounds plausible and appealing.

“If we get the Terra-tech back we could try again somewhere else,” Isra chimed in.

Yaz shot her a grateful smile, encouraged.

“Our ship is out of fuel,” the tall man protested gruffly. “And where would we go?”

“Do you have a better plan?” Isra challenged, prickling.

“Yeah,” he retorted. “Blow the aliens off the planet and take it for ourselves!”

“Oi!” Yaz snapped. “And get us blown up with them? Not much of a plan. Isra’s right. It’s better we try to go somewhere else than die fighting here.”

“You two are the only ones suggesting that,” he accused.

“No, they’re not,” Hugo pipped up. “We could try to relaunch the ship.”

“Even if we could, where would we go?” another man worried.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it’s better than dying here. Better we get our Terra-tech back and live to see another world.”

“There may even be something on this planet that can help fuel the ships,” Yaz added. “The Doctor found something out there, stones that ignite in the wind. It could be a source of fuel.”

“That’s a lot of maybe’s,” the tall man accused.

“Better than what you’ve got now, mate,” Yaz countered.

He continued to glare but around him, several of the others were murmuring uncertainly amongst themselves. Yaz allowed them a minute to process the situation, breath held hopefully at the shift in their expressions.

“I propose a vote,” Hugo suggested eventually. “All in favour of agreeing to leave with the Terra-tech.”

He rose his own and at first, it was only Yaz and Isra who followed. Then, hesitantly, a few more hands rose up. Then a few more. And more after that. Before long there was a forest of them, a nearly unanimous vote.

The faces in front of her were scared but certain. These people weren’t soldiers, they didn’t want war, all they wanted was to survive and now that she’d given them a peaceful way to do it, they were embracing it.

“OK,” Yaz nodded, shoulders falling in relief. “We’ve made our decision. Now we wait for theirs.”

 

 

 


	9. Trust

“It’s not a difficult decision,” the Doctor criticized, pouting impatiently at the continuing light show.

“Silence,” the Podatrian instructed.

“Not much chance of that,” she objected. “And you’re running out of time anyway,” she added, glancing down at the clock on her arm.

“As are you,” they reminded her. “You would not make it back with the device anyway. They would need to send another.”

“Not necessarily,” she corrected, ignoring the wedge of fear lodged in her throat. “You have a missile system?”

“Correct,” they confirmed, legs rippling curiously.

“I can modify that to deliver the Terra-tech then,” she told them.

“You speak with certainty,” they noted skeptically.

“I am certain. I’m good at building things,” she pressed.

“You will still die,” they said.

“But they’ll live,” she replied. “She’ll live,” she reiterated softly, more for her own comfort than to explain herself to them.

Their legs rippled again, tongue flicking towards her.

“This is not proof of devotion,” they decided. “Your death is inevitable. It is not a sacrifice. It does not prove the existence of love in the absence of a collective. It is not sufficient to prove your kind are worth mercy.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything to you,” she said coldly. “I don’t need to. You can’t destroy them without them destroying you. You know your only option is to return the device.”

“They will not be allowed to use it here,” they objected. “It would be pointless.”

“They could leave,” she said. “Go to the other planet you told me about.”

“It is too far,” the Podatrian criticized. “They would not survive the journey.”

“Ah but they could,” she revealed. “They can sleep through it. You can’t, can you? You don’t have hibernation technology yet, but they do! They could survive the trip. If you told them where it was… if you lent them a ship.”

“How do you know about our ship?” they questioned.

“I speak lights now,” she informed them smugly, tilting her head towards the currently silent spots along their sides. “Oversaw you talking about it with your mates.”

“We would not lend them our ship,” they denied firmly. “The ship has technology that would be used against us.”

“You’ll just have to trust them,” she suggested.

“They cannot be trusted. Without a collective there is no love, without love there is no empathy. There can be no trust without empathy,” they reasoned illogically.

The Doctor huffed impatiently.

“Then at least give them a chance to try to leave themselves,” she urged.

“Why would they leave?” the Podatrian questioned.

“Same reason you’re going to give them back the Terra-tech,” the Doctor answered. “They don’t have a choice.”

It was a messy solution. And if the humans couldn’t find a fuel source, they’d likely end up back pointing weapons at each other again. The rocks that had nearly barbequed her on the way there could work, but there was no guarantee the humans would figure out the method their combustibility could be contained and converted to usable fuel. Not without her or the Podatrian's help. 

It was an awful, messy solution, and she just might be about to die leaving them in it.

“You’re running out of time,” she prodded warily, speaking just as much to them as to herself. “You should give them your answer.”

Lights flashed again but she could tell that they knew she was right. After only a moment, they stopped and the Podatrian returned their attention to her.

“We will call them.”

 

///

An agreement had been reached and the Podatrians had let the Doctor set to work, fighting against the speeding seconds to adjust their missile system in time to launch the Terra-tech back to the humans.

She was scared, terrified of what was going to happen when her oxygen ran out. The Podatrians didn't have any, obviously, and it was too far for her to walk back to the human habitat. She was going to die, gasping for it, and then if she were lucky enough to have another regeneration, she was going to die again. And again, until she ran out of them. Her final death was not going to be a kind one, but she couldn't think about that right now. 

There was still work to do, getting the Terra-tech back to the humans. If that was going to be her last act in the universe, she wanted to at least get it right.

The Podatrians had let her into the centre of their habitat. It was deep underground, dark except for the pale blue lights lining the curved ceiling above her and bustling with the rest of the brood. Most of them had come to watch, legs rippling curiously at what she was doing to their missile system. It was a large enough room that it didn’t feel crowded, machinery in the centre and wide walking spaces on the sides, but she wished she could do this without an audience.

“Doctor?”

Her teeth clenched at the sound of Yaz’s voice in her helmet. She didn’t want to tell her, but she had to say goodbye. They both deserved that at least.

“Just finishing up,” she informed her cheerfully, reaching to tighten a bolt.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Yaz admitted uncomfortably. “This is their last hope and you’re firing it out of a canon?”

“Yup!” she confirmed brightly. “Kaboom. Oh, but don’t worry. I’ve given it a parachute. It’ll land safe and sound.”

“Why can’t you just bring it back with you?” she questioned.

Always right to the point. There was no way to dance around it any longer. She set aside the modifications she’d been making to the launch system, swallowing down her fear so it wouldn’t tremor as she spoke.

“Uh… yeah,” she began. “Slight problem with that. I don’t think I have enough oxygen to make it back.”

“I think fifty percent should be more than enough, shouldn’t it?” Yaz objected.

“I’m at fifteen,” she revealed grimly.

There was a pause, not even long enough for both her hearts to beat, but still enough to make her stomach churn.  

“Sorry…” Yaz stumbled at last. “Did you say fifteen?”

The Doctor winced at the way the last words shook, already regretting the distress she’d put her in.

“Yeah,” she replied sheepishly. “I kept meaning to tell you. Bit of a problem with the oxygen. I might have nicked my suit a while back…”

“Oh my God. Doctor!” Yaz shouted.

“I know, I know. Don’t go on about it,” she defended. “I should have told you, but there was a lot going on.”

“Are you going to be OK?” she asked quietly.

It was a prayer not a question but the Doctor answered it as if it were the later.

“Not really,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. But you can get home. You remember how to get home, right?”

“I’m coming to get you,” Yaz decided fiercely.

“You won’t make it on time,” she told her gently. “You’d have to go around the stones-”

“I’ll go through the stones then!” Yaz exclaimed.  

“It’s too dangerous,” she reminded her softly.

“I’m not letting you die!” Yaz argued, getting louder as she grew quieter. “I’m trained for this Doctor. I can do this.”

But what if she couldn’t? What if she died too? Burned up by those stones…

“You don’t have to do this,” she pressed soberly. “It’s too big a risk.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Yaz snapped, and the Doctor recoiled at her sudden sharpness. “I know you don’t trust me anymore-”

“I trust you!” she cried. “I trust you with my life!”

“But you aren’t trusting me now!” Yaz accused. “And I know you've been listening in on me at work.”

“What?” the Doctor muttered, taken aback by the abrupt change of topic.

What did that have to do with any of this? Why was she talking about trust?

“I know you’ve been listening to the police scanners,” Yaz pressed irritably. “You’re scared I’ll mess up again.”

“I wasn’t-” she spluttered, shocked by the accusation. “That’s not what that was for! That’s not what I was scared of! Yaz, you did everything you could.”

“Ana could have died,” she hissed painfully.

“You could have too,” the Doctor countered.

“I don’t need you acting like I can’t handle myself,” Yaz muttered. “I hate the way you look at me now…”

“I’m not looking at you any differently!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“You are!” she insisted. “At the hospital, I saw that look. Like you’d just realized I was fragile. I’m not. Just because I’m human not Timelord doesn’t mean-”

“No. No, that’s not it,” she corrected desperately.

She couldn’t stand to let Yaz think that she saw her that way. Saw her as anything less than remarkable.

“Then what?” Yaz demanded.

“I wasn’t there!” she blurted. “You could have died and I wasn’t there because I couldn’t be bothered to check in on a Sunday. Everyone else was there but I wasn’t. What sort of friend is that? You’ve always trusted me, but I let you down.”

“What?” It was as if a curtain had been lifted, her anger yielding to something much gentler. “No. You’ve never let me down-”

_‘Oxygen levels are critically low.’_

The Doctor’s alarm jolted them back to reality.

“I’m coming to get you,” Yaz told her.

“It really is a risk, Yaz," she warned one last time. “I don’t know what’ll happen if you try to walk through the stones. They might just end up taking you too. Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m coming,” she declared. “I’m with you. I told you, I’m always with you. But right now, I need you to trust me. Help me find you. Can you trust me?”

What she was asking her to do was as terrifying as her own looming death but that was what trust was, she realized. It was letting the people she loved be brave, even if it felt like setting herself on fire.

 “Always,” she murmured. “What do you need?”

“Start walking towards me,” Yaz instructed, not missing a beat. “As far as you can, but don’t run. You need to keep your breathing low.”

“I have to finish this,” the Doctor told her.

“No, bring the Terra-tech with you,” Yaz said. “They have more suits; they can come get it if we don’t make it.”

“And if we die in the rocks?” the Doctor postulated.

It was a grim possibility, but one they’d be remiss not to consider, nonetheless.

Yaz puffed out a disgruntled breath.

“Yeah. OK. But be quick.”

“Always am,” the Doctor replied smugly. “Keep the line open. I’ll leave when I can.”

“I’m leaving now,” Yaz replied. “I’m bringing you more oxygen. Don’t use all yours up before I get there.”

“Doing my best,” she mumbled, already back to adjusting the launching system.

They stopped talking after that but she felt the other woman’s presence as she worked, urging her to dig in her feet and fight the darkness just a little bit longer. Already her head was light, aching in time with her pulse, and her arms had grown heavier, but there was a strength emanating from her core that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.  

_I’m always with you._

They didn’t have what the Podatrians did, there was no psychic link between them, but love in any form meant the same thing to all living creatures.

It meant they weren’t alone.

/-/-/

Yaz scrambled to put a suit together at the edge of the habitat, learning the unfamiliar equipment as quickly as she could.

Her conversation with the Doctor whirred in her head like the sandstorm that had buried the TARDIS but she didn’t have time to deal with any of the blinding emotions it had set off. Only two things were persistent enough to keep themselves on the surface of her thoughts.

The Doctor was dying and she loved her. Fiercer than she'd realize, so loud it was terrifying and if she died like this, it was going to be more painful than she knew how to bear. It made her throat dry and stiff as if her flesh had turned to plastic, and her hands were trembling so hard it was difficult to pull the suit on.

“You need to seal it before you go out.”

Isra’s quiet voice made her jump but she calmed quickly, shooting her a grateful smile.

“Mind helping?” she requested. “I’m not used to these suits yet.”

“I’ll say,” Isra agreed. “But it’s crazy brave of you to go out there. You sure you can do this?”

“No,” Yaz admitted. “But I can’t not do it.”

She nodded understandingly as she sealed the helmet.

“Yeah,” she sighed, handing Yaz the extra oxygen pack. “I really hope you come back though.”

“Me too,” she agreed. There wasn’t time for doubt though. She stepped forward, into the airlock. “Take care of them,” she told Isra before the door shut behind her.

“Promise,” Isra vowed. “Go find her.”

The air drained from the room, hissing loudly for what seemed like several minutes as her heart beat against her ribs. Then the doors in front of her opened and she stepped out into the sand, clutching the extra oxygen pack tightly against her chest.


	10. The Nature of Love

The Podatrians didn’t understand why she was going but they’d let her leave.

“It cannot be done without significant risk," the first one had said to her. “They will have to pass through the stones.”

“Told her that,” the Doctor had answered. “She’s set on it. And I won’t leave her out there alone.”

“There is no reason for the human to do this,” they’d pressed, confused. “There is no benefit to them that outweighs the risk. They have the device. It is suspicious.”

“I’m pretty much out of oxygen and we’re walking into a matchbox,” the Doctor had countered in exasperation. “What possible scheme could we be concocting?”

They’d had no answer to that so they’d let her go. They didn’t believe that Yaz was coming but she didn’t care. She knew she was and they’d done all they could to create a fragile peace between the humans and the Podatrians. As soon as she’d fired off the Terra-tech, she’d left to meet Yaz.

Now she was back out in the stones, head throbbing and her limbs already screaming for her to lay down, dragging herself forward to the most important thing on this planet.

"I'm only two kilometres away now," Yaz informed her encouragingly. “Just keep walking, I’ll get to you soon.”

“Good,” the Doctor puffed.

“You’re not getting out of taking me to the real garden that easy,” she went on teasingly. “I know the TARDIS doesn’t always do what you expect, but I reckon she’ll make an exception for us now, don’t you?”

The Doctor wheezed out a weak chuckle, enchanted by her gentle optimism.

“Sorry,” Yaz winced, hearing only her laboured breathing. “I shouldn’t make you laugh.”

“No, please… keep talking…” the Doctor insisted. “I’m listening. It’d help me stay awake.”

“About anything?”

Though her concern was clear, she’d remained steadfastly positive. Encouraging not urgent. Exactly what the Doctor needed right now. Part of that, she knew was her training, but she suspected that a big part of it too was just Yaz. She was so strong, one of the strongest people she’d ever met, and she couldn’t believe she’d let her believe even for a moment that she’d thought she was anything else.

“Whatever you’d like,” she managed after a few empty breaths.

“We used to have a garden,” Yaz decided on. “Out on our balcony. Not really a garden. Mostly tomatoes. My dad bought them for us when I was nine. He said he wanted to teach us how to be responsible.” She paused. “It’s not a very good story.”

“I like it,” the Doctor objected. “Never had a balcony garden.”

“It isn’t good for tomatoes though,” she rambled on. “They need sunlight to ripen and there was too much shade. So, dad bought us a UV light for them.” She chuckled softly. “My mum wasn’t pleased but it worked. I loved those tomatoes. Don’t remember why. They were just tomatoes. Guess I just liked that I could make them grow. Tiny little seeds growing up into those tall plants.”

“They were _your_ tomatoes,” the Doctors guessed.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And they were so good! When they did ripen. This is really what you want to listen to?”

“Yup,” she confirmed brightly.

It was such a little piece of her life, but so rich with everything in life that was good. They weren’t just tomatoes to the Doctor either, they were moments of joy in her friend’s past. Tiny treasures. Tiny little reasons to keep moving forward. Every little joy in life had value and she wanted them both to collect endless more.

Yaz kept going, one story folding into another, dozens of beautiful moments pasted together into a sparkling mosaic. 

_‘Hold onto them,’ she told herself. ‘Hold onto her. Keep walking.’_

/-/-/

The stones stretched out before Yaz as far as she could see, disquietingly beautiful under the unfamiliar sunlight. They seemed so benign, glittering green and purple scales gently surfacing through the sand. It was only the Doctor’s description of them that let her see them for what they really were, the teeth of a dragon ready to blow out a firestorm.

They’d stopped her mid-story, words draining away at her trepidation, but the Doctor hadn’t said anything to the silence.

“Doctor?” she called gently through the coms.

“Still walking,” the Doctor answered breathlessly.

Yaz tried not to linger on how much weaker she sounded, how each breath ground like she was fighting to take it in. Instead, she held onto how close they were.

“It’s just the stones now,” she encouraged. “I’ve almost got you.”

A slow breeze brushed over the sand, rippling the surface, and Yaz flinched, glancing wide-eyed at the stones before forcing her feet to keep moving. They weren’t sparking yet and there wasn’t time to be afraid of them so she sent up a short prayer and moved forward.

Her skin crawled as they swallowed her up, heart thundering in her chest like she was walking into the jaws of a monster. Blood roared past her ears, her body screaming at her as she ignored every rational survival instinct she had. She walked faster, clutching the extra oxygen pack tightly. All she wanted to do was get to the Doctor and get them both out of there before something set them off.

“I think we’re close,” she said, checking the display on her arm that told her where the Doctor’s suit was.

It wasn't moving forward anymore, stopped somewhere a little less than a kilometre away.

“Doctor?” she called uncertainly.

“Can’t…” she wheezed. “I can’t…”

“It’s OK,” Yaz assured her, an entirely new kind of fear contorting in her chest. “Don’t talk, I’ll find you.”

She started to run, sand spraying out behind her, eating her strides, slowing her down. But there was a figure in the distance, too small still to make out properly. Yaz didn’t know where her certainty came from, her desperation or her deep-rooted familiarity with the Doctor’s shape, but she knew it was her. She picked up speed.

“Yaz…”

“Don’t talk,” she ordered.

“No… listen… please…” the Doctor struggled, her ragged voice leaving a pain in Yaz’s chest as real as a knife. “Don’t… touch me… if I’m re…” She gasped, gulping hungrily at air that wasn’t there. “Regenerating… promise me…”

“I promise,” she said swiftly. “I won’t. But you have to stop talking.”

She didn’t even realize what she’d promised until after she’d said it, didn’t think she really understood what the Doctor was asking or why. She just needed her to stop so she wouldn’t burn up what oxygen she had left.

The Doctor didn’t say anything more after that and Yaz didn’t know if it was because she believed her or if it was because she couldn’t. Before she had time to worry about that though, the wind picked up and the stone to her right ignited abruptly, sending her springing sideways away from the intense flash of heat. It was so bright, her eyes burned from looking at it and before she’d had time to recover two more stones exploded into blinding fire.

Soon it was so hot and bright she could barely navigate. All she could do was keep running towards the beacon on her display, towards that and away from the most intense pockets of heat. Sweat dripped down her skin and she was terrified the scorching temperature would ignite her oxygen packs. It took every ounce of courage and experience she had not to give in to the panic drumming under her chest.

 Just as the fire grew so livid she was sure she would be consumed by it, it fizzled out, leaving nothing but thin trails of smoke rising off the top of the still glowing rock tips.

Desperate, she blinked against the spots dancing in front of her eyes, searching for the Doctor. After a few moments of sickening fear, she spotted her crumpled form only a few meters away. Mercifully, the flames hadn’t touched her, but she wasn’t moving, laying sideways on the ground as if she’d tried and failed to get up.

Yaz reached her in only a few more bounding strides, tears streaming through her sweat as she sank to her knees beside her. Her face was slack and grey under her helmet, the red blinking oxygen alarm blaring from her arm. Her pulse on the monitor had flatlined and it didn’t look like she was breathing but she wasn’t glowing either.

As she rushed to connect the oxygen pack to her suit, Yaz strained to remember what that meant.

The Doctor had told her little about regeneration. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, but she knew that it only happened when she was dying and that she didn’t know how many she had left. It was possible that she didn’t have any. Was it supposed to start before or after her hearts stopped? Yaz didn’t know.

She didn't want her to regenerate, to burn up parts of who she was and become someone else, but she didn't want her to not regenerate either. She didn't want any of this, but even after the pack was connected and the alarm cut off her heart rate monitor was still shrieking at its flatline.

“Don’t do this,” she pleaded, finding the space over her hearts to start chest compressions. “I. did not. Cross. Those. Hell rocks. So. You could. Die. Here. C’mon Doctor. Breathe. Please breathe, please breathe, please breathe.”

Her voice cracked under the weight of the sobs she was holding back, splintering until she barely recognized it but she kept on, repeating the garbled plea with each compression. The rest of the world faded away, blurring into darkness like she was trapped in a nightmare. Time seemed to stretch on forever and vanish like smoke all at once.

If only she’d thought to ask how to do this for someone with two hearts. Surely this was wrong. Surely there was a more effective way to beat them for her, but this was all she knew how to do.

Then, just as she thought her own heart was about to burst from her chest, the Doctor chocked out a gasp, sitting up so quickly Yaz was thrown backwards.

For several moments they sat frozen in place, staring at each other as she gulped in the fresh oxygen.

“Oh, that’s good,” the Doctor managed at last, still out of breath. “Excellent air. Thank you.”

Yaz laughed loudly, flooding with relief at how much like herself she sounded, and in an instant, she’d flung her arms around her shoulders, gripping the back of her suit between her gloves and butting the plastic of their helmets together with a soft _thwack._

“Careful,” the Doctor warned, but she was laughing too, clutching her back tightly. “You did it. You’re OK. You were so brave. Yasmin Khan, bravest woman in the galaxy.”

It had felt more like desperation than courage to Yaz but she didn’t argue. Her limbs sang, light from the weight that had been lifted off of her. Even her tears had been made light by her laughter as she clutched the woman in her arms. Everything about the way she felt against her was warm and right. She didn't want to let go, but they were sitting in a matchbox ready to spark so she made herself pull back, allowing her a brief scan of the face that beamed back at her.

The Doctor looked exhausted, but her eyes were bright and clear, glowing so intently as they stared into Yaz’s that she found her own face grow hot.

“Can you stand?” she asked gently.

“I’ll have to,” the Doctor sighed, her brow folding in determination. “Can’t linger here too long. They’re not rocks by the way,” she added brightly as Yaz wove an arm under her shoulder. “They’re Calravi gems.”

They stood together, Yaz holding the Doctor around the middle to steady her when her legs wobbled.

“That’s the part you heard,” she mumbled in bewildered amusement.

“I heard all of it,” the Doctor told her, sobering as they took a tentative step forward. “Everything you did for me. Thank you.”

Yaz’s heart fluttered in her chest but she didn’t know what to say to that. There was so much left to be said between them. When they had time. When she could think of the right way to express it all. For now, she let the most important parts out in a single word.

“Always.”

 

 


	11. Code 27

Isra was waiting for them at the entrance to the habitat, falling into step beside them as Yaz helped the Doctor through the airlock door to disassemble their suits.

"Got the Terra-tech?" the Doctor asked when she'd pulled off her helmet.

The air in the habitat was fresh and sweet compared to the stuffy suit and she sucked it in gratefully. How close she’d come to never tasting it again.

“The parachute was an interesting touch,” Isra confirmed with some amusement.

“Hope it landed alright,” Yaz mumbled.

“’Course it did,” the Doctor guessed. “Did all the maths myself before launching it. And my head wasn’t wonked yet then.”

“How’s it now?” Yaz asked, watching her with concern.

“Much better,” she assured her.

There was still a dull ache throbbing around her brain, but she was far less worried about that than she was about getting the humans off this planet.

“Maybe you should see a doctor,” Isra suggested as they continued to un-suit.

The Doctor found her coat, hanging where she’d left it above one of the benches, and slipped back into it. 

“No need for that,” she objected quickly. “Too much work to do.” She moved too quickly though, the spots blooming behind her eyes causing her to stumble until she felt Yaz’s steady hands clamp around her arm. “Just need to walk it off,” she dismissed.

“We’re fine,” Yaz insisted when Isra continued to stare at them. “How were things here while we were gone?”

“Quiet,” Isra answered, letting it go.

“Oh, and I got a sample for the engineers,” Yaz added, fishing through the pouch at the front of her suit. “Hope it’s big enough, there wasn’t a lot of time to stop. We didn’t want to linger too long.”

“So that wasn’t a souvenir,” the Doctor commented, hazily remembering Yaz pausing to scrape off a sample. “Don’t know why I thought… never mind…” She must have been more disoriented than she’d realized. “What’s it for?” But she was recovering swiftly, mind racing ahead. “Oh-! Oh, that's clever. Who thought of that?"

Isra tilted her head towards Yaz, mouth twitching up into a small smile.

“It was just an idea,” Yaz supplied, though she glowed under the Doctor’s proud stare. “I knew they were combustible so I thought they’d work for fuel.”

“Oh, they do!” the Doctor chirped. “Brilliant, Yaz. That just might be what gets everyone off this planet. Loads of species use Calravi gems as fuel. Podatrians too. Could be why they’re here in the first place. So close to their habitat.”

“Think they’d be willing to help us use them?” Yaz ventured.

The Doctor puffed out an agitated breath.

“Hope so. We can try at least. I made sure to open up a communication link between them and our coms while I was there.”

“Did you learn that at UNIT?” Isra asked disbelievingly.

“I’m just very good with technology,” the Doctor answered nonchalantly.

“Alien technology?” Isra questioned. 

“Well they weren’t studying cows at UNIT,” she answered with a smirk. “Actually, I think they were. But they were definitely studying alien technology too. And alien cows…”

“The point is, we can talk to them,” Yaz cut in.  “Ask them for help.”

“If they’ll give it,” Isra mumbled, unconvinced.

“If they’ll give it,” the Doctor agreed.

/-/-/

Everyone had gathered again in the central room and when the communication link to the Podatrians was turned back on, the Doctor was glad to be standing on this side of it.  

She couldn’t help a glance at Yaz, standing so close that their shoulders brushed together, wrapped up in the thought that if it weren’t for her, she wouldn’t be standing anywhere at all. The brilliant woman had risked everything to save her, the same way she’d done for Ana five weeks ago, and the courage and compassion both acts had taken was a rare treasure even among humans. 

“I don’t have much faith that this is going to work,” Yaz admitted in a whisper, glancing at the Doctor uncertainly.

“Me neither but if it doesn’t, I won’t leave them stranded here,” the Doctor vowed.

“You mean… you’ll use the box?” Yaz questioned. She kept her words cryptic, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “That’s not interfering a tad too much?”

The question took her by surprise, she hadn't yet considered using the TARDIS or what it would mean if she did. In theory, she could try. But where? What planet? It was a huge universe but habitable worlds were rare, especially now. In this century they were hot real estate. She could end up taking them somewhere where they’d run into the same problem all over again!  What if she let them Terra-form a world that wasn’t meant for them and another species was displaced? No. It was too complicated. There was too much room for a catastrophic domino effect. Using too much of the power she’d sworn not to misuse. It wasn’t her place to adjust the universe, as much as she sometimes wanted to.

“If the Podatrians won’t tell them how to use the Calravi gems, I’ll do it myself,” she answered, avoiding the subject altogether.

It was still an interference but not quite as big as picking them up like dolls and displacing them. They’d be steering their own course, she was just lending them a bit of fuel.

“You know how to use the Calravi gems?” Yaz asked.

“Well, I’m sure I can figure it out,” she decided.

“Hello?”

Hugo had taken charge of contacting the Podatrians, which the Doctor thought was a good choice. Of all of them, he'd be the fairest, the least hostile.

“You have received your device?” a Podatrian replied.

“We have it,” Hugo confirmed.

“And the Doctor,” Yaz added, with a hint of defiance.

There was a pause and for a startling moment, she worried that they'd angered them. Yaz pressed her lips together, apparently also wondering if she’d made a mistake, but when they replied their tone was only curious.

“The Doctor is alive?”

“Yup,” she confirmed brightly. “Thanks to Yaz. But that isn’t what we called you about actually-”

"The human travelled through the stones?" they questioned in astonishment. "They risked burning to save you?”

“They’re not as cold as you think they are, are they?” the Doctor replied smugly. “But we really do need to discuss-”

“This changes their designation,” the Podatrian droned over her. “This act proves the capacity for altruism, altruism proves true love, true love proves true consciousness.”

“That’s great,” the Doctor agreed, shooting a grin at Yaz and wondering briefly why she was suddenly so preoccupied with her feet. “She’s everything you’ve said and more. You’re spot on. But-”

“They have been reclassified to level 5 sentience. Species of this designation are protected under code 27,” they stated.

“I’m sorry, what?” Yaz asked.

“Is it insulting us?” Isra questioned. “What are, we an endangered species now or something? We’re not butterflies.”

“No, this is much better than that,” the Doctor breathed, grinning as she understood what was happening. “Code 27, that’s Podatrian law?” she checked. “The suffering of a sentient being shall not be tolerated under any circumstance. If the means to alleviate it are present, they must be used.”

“As is our ancient custom, as is our modern law,” the Podatrian confirmed.

“Then you’ll help them- I mean us- leave this planet?” she pressed excitedly.

“We are bound to do what we can,” they answered. “We can provide transport and the location of a suitable planet. But the journey will be long.”

“We can hibernate indefinitely,” Hugo informed them hopefully. “A ship and a destination are all we need.”

“A ship and a destination will be provided,” they confirmed. “We will contact you again shortly with further details.”

The connection was terminated and the group of humans gawked at each other in stunned silence, baffled by their sudden change in fortune.

“They changed their minds about us just like that?” Isra finally said.

“It wasn’t just like that,” the Doctor objected. “It took a true act of selflessness to prove to them that humans are capable of the empathy they thought only came from a brood mind.” Her eyes fell on Yaz, too wrapped in her excitement to contain the burst of pride welling up in her chest. “They’re a clever species but their collective consciousness makes it difficult to imagine any other state of being. They think in if, then, following sets of conclusions to a logical answer and your lack of a collective consciousness was blocking their way to the truth. They needed undeniable proof to change their minds but once they had it it was easy for them to leap down the rest of the chain.”

“Because of you,” Hugo commented, staring at Yaz.

Yaz ducked her head, shrugging self-consciously under their stares.

“I did what I had to to get the Doctor back,” she told them simply. “Any of us would have done it… for someone we cared enough about…” she mumbled the last part, uncharacteristically shy and the Doctor felt herself flush.

To love with every fibre of her being, and to feel that love returned just as fiercely, it was the core of everything good in the universe. She wanted to hold her, tell her all the ways she poured light into the darkness, but this wasn’t the time.

“You were really brave,” Isra insisted.

“And you showed them the best of us,” the Doctor added, smiling warmly at her.

At last, Yaz looked up, her expression as soft as her words that were almost drowned out by the excited cheers of the humans realizing their newfound future.

“I just wanted you back.”

For a heartbeat, the rest of the world melted away and the Doctor reached out to take her hand, struggling to find what she wanted to say. Struggling to understand exactly what it was she wanted.

“Did you hear?” Isra cried excitedly, breaking the seal between them.

They both blinked at her, waking from a trance.

“Hear what?” Yaz asked dazedly.

"We're celebrating!" she laughed. "C'mon. Tonight, we can feast! No more rations! We're getting out of here!"

Her joy was contagious, pulling smiles up onto both of their faces and they followed behind her into the jubilant crowd. The Doctor expected Yaz to pull her hand back, waited for her to signal that she wanted to let go, but she never did so she let her hold on. They kept their fingers intertwined, two souls tethering themselves together, hoping they’d be lucky enough to never have to let go.

/-/-/

It was late in the evening but the feast was still going on. Dessert was being served, fruit pastries and chocolate, simple by her time’s standards but a rare delicacy out here. The Doctor hadn’t eaten much, she didn’t seem to need to the way humans did, and Yaz had enough desserts back home. She’d let someone else have her share.

In lieu of eating, the Doctor had spent the evening regaling a small group of physicists with her knowledge of the Calravi gems, deep in discussion about their potential application as a fuel source. Her hands flew through the air, eyes alight with excitement, and Yaz watched her in peaceful fondness for a minute or so before excusing herself to walk off her meal.

There was a smile on her lips, a now familiar glow in her chest from the way the Doctor looked in wonder at the universe, when she caught sight of Isra, standing alone at the edge of one of the greenhouses. She could have been the silhouette of a stone under the purple lights, still as the Earth her people had left. The chill of her was like a shard of ice to the candle in Yaz’s heart, and she found her feet moving her towards her, reaching out instinctively.

“Need any company?” she offered, taking the place beside her.

The other woman cast her a shadowy smile.

“If you’d like.”

They stood together in comfortable silence, studying the line of sprouts, neat rows along steel tables.

“You’re going,” Isra said at last. A statement, not a question. 

“Everyone is,” Yaz answered automatically.

Isra shot her a look, eyebrows raised.

“I know you’re not one of us,” she revealed. “I won’t tell anyone,” she added swiftly when Yaz opened her mouth to protest. “It’s your business. It’s just that I…” she trailed off, turning back to the plants.

“How’d you know?” Yaz asked, softened by her melancholy, though she could only guess at where it was coming from.

“You’re not subtle,” Isra teased lightly, arms crossing. “Especially the Doctor. What sort of name is that? Obviously, you two aren’t from here. It’s in the way you talk. The things you don’t know. You’re too smart not to know all these things. Must be from another colony. Maybe one that set out earlier. With more primitive technology.”

“That’s all?” Yaz asked, surprised. “You sound so certain.”

“Aren’t you?” Isra challenged, turning to search her face.

“Yes,” Yaz admitted.

She didn’t want to lie to her. She’d grown to care about her too much for that, even in the short time they’d known each other.

Isra nodded, averting her gaze again. “I knew it. Oh, well that and I bugged the door before you and Hugo had your chat,” she added with a brief smirk.

“You didn’t?” Yaz gasped.

“I did.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small piece of metal that looked like a watch battery. “Now we’re even, I guess.”

“You’re angry we lied to you,” Yaz guessed. “I’m sorry. We were worried about how you’d react. Especially since the Doctor’s…”

But she bit her tongue. That secret wasn’t hers to tell.

“I don’t care who you are,” Isra contested quietly. “Or what you are. Maybe you’re not even human. And I get that you want to go home it’s just that…” She clenched her jaw, darting a quick glance at Yaz before staring at her feet. “Then I’ll be alone.”

Yaz tilted her head, aching with sympathy. For a moment, she felt like she was looking at herself not so long ago. Just a kid staring into the big wide world and wondering how she was supposed to find her way without anyone to walk beside her.

“Not forever,” she promised. “There’s always someone. You just have to wait sometimes.”

“How do you do it? How’d you find the Doctor?” Isra asked unhappily.

That made her laugh, startling the other woman into looking up.

“She fell out of the sky, insulted me, then told me were friends.”

Isra frowned.

“Seriously though.”

“I am serious,” Yaz insisted. She nudged her shoulder, smiling encouragingly. “The right people show up when you least expect them. You just have to be open to them when they do.”

“I guess,” Isra sighed, only halfway convinced. “Will I ever see you again?”

“I don’t know,” Yaz admitted, sobering a little.

Isra took a deep breath, straightening as she turned to face her.

“I’m glad I met you,” she said, extending her hand.

Yaz glanced at it for only a moment before pulling Isra into a hug, one which she returned warmly.

“You’ll be OK,” she insisted.

“I hope so,” Isra mumbled. Then she laughed. “I’d say stay out of trouble, but I doubt that’s going to happen.”

Yaz laughed too, hopeful for both of them.

“It probably isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 2 chapters left to go. One trip to the Garden and an epilogue. I may post them both Saturday or Sunday since they go together :)
> 
> The line "it wasn't her place to adjust the universe" is a bit of a nod to Fringe. It's a paraphrasing of something Walter Bishop says in White Tulip.


	12. The Garden

The TARDIS landed with a whirr, stabilizing to a still like a boat gliding onto a sandy beach.

“Just a minute!” the Doctor instructed, leaping ahead when Yaz made towards the door. “Quality assurance. Won’t be a moment.”

“Sure you’ve got it right this time?” Yaz teased, laughing at her.

As she watched, the Doctor opened the front door just a crack, popping her face out quickly before clipping it shut again. When she turned around, she was grinning.

“Yup!”

“Are you gonna let me see?” Yaz chuckled, skipping to her side.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she invited, moving aside.

Yaz smiled at her, allowing her rush of affection to move her fingers around the Doctor’s hand, pleased when she felt the Doctor hold her back. They’d come full circle, back to where they’d been, but it was like a spiral staircase, taking them deeper into what they’d begun on the other side. It was everything they’d had between them and more.

“Ready,” she answered.

With her other hand, she pushed open the door, blinking against the sudden blaze of light. Her eyes adjusted slowly, shapes, colours, so many colours.

“Woah,” she breathed.

Mesmerized, she stepped out onto the stone path, pulling the Doctor behind her.

The whole world was a garden. It was like a mosaic made of flowers, stretching down to a winding river that cut through gentle hills of pastel rainbows. The wind rustled and petals shook free from the trees overhead, falling like snow in pink and blue and yellow and everything in between. Vines snaked up the trees, pale turquoise, twisting into intricate patterns as if someone had painted them there in three dimensions. A trail of silver stones wove between them, cutting through crystal-like grass that waved gently against their trunks, ice breathed to life.

“You like it?” the Doctor murmured beside her.

Yaz squeezed her hand, cheeks warming when she caught sight of the way the other woman was looking at her. The admiration in the Doctor's eyes as she searched her face rivalled the wonder Yaz felt at the splendour before them. 

“It’s incredible,” she answered.

The Doctor’s eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching excitedly.

“Shall we look around?”

She pulled her down the trail, into the thick of it all, and they walked together for hours through the wondrous sights. There were waterfalls laced with what the Doctor called Waterfall lilies, sturdy vines of emerald green holding frost-white flowers perched on saucer cup leaves that jetted out all the way through the rushing water. They passed houses sticking like mushrooms to the sides of trees the size of skyscrapers, a network of bridges crisscrossing between them like a wooden spiderweb. There were wide fields of the crystal grass, shooting out rainbows of light into the warm air, tinkling like wind chimes in the breeze. There was a bog made of singing moss, humming a haunting melody across the flat barren landscape. There was seaweed that glowed silver under clear blue ocean, the Doctor said they’d need to come back at night when it shone in green and purple streaks like an aurora beneath the waves.

 It was so big they needed to use the TARDIS to move between sections. So big it would take a lifetime to see it all. By midafternoon, they both needed a break, stopping on a balcony that overlooked a scarlet forest. The trees were releasing some kind of seeds, black dots tethered to maroon tufts that floated all around them. Along the balcony was written the history of the planet, which the Doctor read curiously as Yaz rested on a bench.

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, just as Yaz had allowed her eyes to drift shut. “That’s incredible. Yaz, come see this.”

“Find something interesting,” Yaz guessed lazily, eyes still shut.

“It’s about you,” the Doctor pressed excitedly.

That piqued her attention, cracking open one eye.

“How could it be about me?” she asked.

“It’s the garden!” the Doctor rambled excitedly. “It’s you!”

If this was her attempt at flirting, she was going to need to start being a lot less cryptic.

“That’s really sweet of you,” she replied, watching her fondly.

“What?” the Doctor blinked at her, confused for a moment. “Oh! Oh, no, not that. Although, you are just as radiant. But that’ wasn’t my point.”

“Sorry what?” Yaz fumbled, rewinding the last bit in her head.

She really had said that. Before she had time to process it though, the Doctor had taken both her hands in her own, pulling her to her feet.

“Come look!” she urged.

Yaz patiently allowed her to pull her towards the plaques, reading the text when she pointed insistently at it.

 _“…_ the Garden of the Sweet Flower Queen,” she read. “Was made to commemorate the woman whose unwavering courage and compassion saved the Garden Colony two hundred years ago. Though there are no records of her before or beyond their initial landing point, she is commemorated in the following photograph. The planet is named for her...”

Below it was a photograph of a small group of people gathered around a large table, laughing together between bites of their food. Yaz’s eyes widened as she recognized Isra and Hugo and the Doctor and, marked with an Asterix…

“It’s… me?” she gasped.

“It’s your name,” the Doctor supplied enthusiastically. “Oh, why didn’t I see it earlier? Yasmin, a sweet-smelling flower, and Khan means-.”

“It means ruler,” Yaz finished for her, incredulous. “I’m the Flower Queen?” she realized, gaping down at the photograph. “This is what they become.” She looked out over the forest, heart swelling with joy. “It’s so beautiful.”

She hoped Isra and Hugo had lived long enough to see it like this. Suddenly she wanted to know everything, who’d designed the treehouses, how long it had taken to become the unbelievable garden world it was, how her friend’s lives had been after she’d left them. It was more than she could have ever imagined, an endless paradise for them to grow old in.

“They made it,” the Doctor said, reading her mind. She reached her hand, gently wiping away the tear sliding down Yaz’s cheek. “And look what they built. Look what you helped them make.”

"I can't believe they named it after me," she marvelled.

“Of course, they named it after you,” the Doctor mumbled, watching her with a twinkle in her eyes. “You’re the reason it exists.”

Yaz swallowed, shrinking away from the praise that felt like it was meant for someone else. Her doubt remerged without warning, chilling her like a thick cloud over the sun.

“I didn’t do anything that special,” she protested.

The Doctor stared at her, eyes narrowed in surprise.

“Yaz, what you did was extraordinary,” she pressed.

“It was a fluke though,” she blurted. “It was just luck, that’s all it was. I’m not infallible. I’m not like you. What if next time I’m not good enough again?”

“Like me,” the Doctor gasped in disbelief. She shook her head. “You’re better than me. You’re the person who steps onto the ledge to save someone even if it means you might just fall with them. You’re amazing and the universe needs you to keep being amazing.”

Yaz stared down at the smooth white concrete, her eyes too grey for the brilliant colours below them.

“But we fell,” she muttered bitterly. “I didn’t save her.”

No further explanation was needed as to what she meant by that. The Doctor's shoulders fell, her expression heavy with understanding. 

“You can’t save everyone Yaz,” the Doctor murmured, leaning to catch her eye. “No one can save everyone.”

“Have you ever lost someone?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” the Doctor answered instantly. “You know I have.”

But that hadn’t been what she’d meant. She took in a long breath through her nose, reformulating the question, wanting to be kind as much as she needed to know the answer.

“Was it ever your fault?” she ventured carefully.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied, the pain in her voice drawing Yaz’s gaze. “And I think there’s going to come a day where I won’t be able to save you.”

Her eyes were suddenly so old, deep with regret that seemed to go on forever.

“I know,” Yaz assured her, unable to look away from them. “And maybe there’ll be a day where I won’t be able to save myself either. But the fear of dying isn’t going to stop me from living.”

“I know,” the Doctor whispered. She broke away from Yaz’s searching gaze, turning her head to stare out at the Garden. “I don’t think it should.”

It wasn’t the end of the thought though. She’d touched the edge of a labyrinth, winding tunnels that led into unyielding darkness, and she wondered if she could just reach a bit further if she could pull the Doctor out of it.

“But?” she prompted.

“But?” the Doctor echoed absently.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” she pushed.

The Doctor was silent for so long, Yaz thought she wasn’t going to answer, watching something far off on the horizon. When she finally did speak it was as if the light had gone out in her voice.

“I’ll always have to leave people behind,” she began. “It’s… lonely. To have no one I won’t eventually have to say goodbye to. It doesn’t make me love them any less it’s just… hard. I guess I’m still struggling to make sense of it. Not having a family.”

“You have us,” Yaz reminded her.

“But I’m not your real family, am I?” the Doctor speculated, smiling ruefully. “You already have one of those.”

“Don't be daft, of course, you're my real family,” Yaz cried. “And Ryan and Graham’s too.”

How could she think that? After all they’d been through, how could she doubt what they felt about her?

“I’m not even human…,” she mumbled helplessly. “I don’t think I know how to be part of anything.”

It was that look she’d had in the hospital all over again. Pain. Regret. But it didn’t mean what Yaz had thought it meant.

She lay her hand on her wrist, squeezing it gently until the Doctor glanced down at her fingers. She didn’t move, barely breathing as if she were afraid that her touch wasn’t real. It was though, all of it was, and Yaz needed her to know that.

“It doesn’t matter,” she declared. “I-… I love you. That’s what makes it real.”

The Doctor’s lip trembled at the words and, very slowly, she lifted her other hand to place on top of Yaz’s, smiling softly as she ran her thumb over the back of her palm.

“I love you too,” she answered thickly. “That's the scary bit too because our time together is so finite. It's going to end someday.”

She’d never seen her so vulnerable before. The trust she was showing in exposing herself this way made Yaz believe that what she was saying must be true.

“That’s a part of it for everyone, Doctor,” she reminded her. “I’m scared sometimes, by how little time I have left with my Nani, but even when she’s gone, I’ll still be a part of her. You said you carry them with you, but we’ll carry you too. What you are to us won’t go away just because we’re gone. You get to keep that too, and it means you’ll never really be alone. But it’s OK to feel lonely sometimes. It doesn’t mean you can never have a family. Isn’t it worth it, to be lonely sometimes if it means you get to love someone?”

The words tumbled out of her, straight from her heart to her mouth, and she hoped they made sense. From the way the Doctor’s smile stretched across her face, she thought maybe they had.

“Always,” she agreed. “It’s always worth it.” She took Yaz’s hand between both of hers, cradling it like she held the universe. “How could you ever think you were so small to me?”

It felt like the Doctor was holding her heart, so careful it left her tongue-tied.

“Because I can fall,” was all she could say.

“Everyone falls,” the Doctor told her. “ _Everyone._ What matters is what you fell for. And what you get up for. You have so much in front of you, Yaz. I want you to grow old, to have years behind you, to have a lifetime to remember. Because it's brilliant. You’re going to be brilliant.”

“You say that like you’re leaving,” she accused, suddenly uncertain.

The Doctor shook her head.

“Never. I’d never leave you. Unless you wanted me too.”

Yaz studied her face carefully, looking towards the distant horizon behind her eyes. It never seemed to end, so much of it was still unforeseeable, but what she did see she found she believed in.

“Never,” she said.

It wasn’t everything though, even if the single word was enough to soften the Doctor’s features, it wasn’t everything she wanted her to know. There were no words that could speak more than the action her fluttering heart was urging her to take.

So, before the moment broke, before she remembered everything she was scared of, she bridged the short gap between them to lay her lips onto the Doctor’s, holding the back of her neck to make sure this was real.

She tasted like starlight, bright and cold and impossibly warm. She was a light that could traverse any distance, endless and ancient. When she kissed her back, she was like the dawn waking up the world and all too soon they were pulling apart, staring breathlessly at the line they’d just crossed.

“I’m sorry,” Yaz mumbled, dropping her gaze.

“Don’t be,” the Doctor contested.

Yaz glanced up, hopeful, but the other woman looked even more confused than she was and she knew that it had been more than a kiss for her too. If it were that simple it wouldn’t be so terrifying. Kissing the Doctor was intoxicatingly easy compared to being in love with her.

“I don’t know how to do this,” the Doctor admitted after a minute of teetering silence.

“Would you try?” Yaz couldn’t help asking.

It was messy and impossible but she wanted it badly enough to risk whatever storm they were flying into.

The Doctor opened her mouth but no words came out so she let it shut, frozen like someone sizing up a jump, paralyzed by the thought of the drop.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” Yaz assured her. “I can wait.”

But the Doctor shook her head, ever so slightly, bright eyes searching Yaz’s before they dropped to her lips and she was kissing her again. Light blossomed behind Yaz’s eyes, golden like the sun, heart fluttering even as the Doctor pulled away again.

She didn’t go far resting their foreheads together, close enough they could hear each others’ trembling breaths.

“You can do better,” the Doctor mumbled. “You have so much time. You can find someone better than me. Someone-”

“I don’t want someone, I want you,” Yaz objected determinedly. She reached up to cup the Doctor’s face between her hands, unable to keep her lips from curling up in a smile when that made her sigh softly. “Stop underestimating me.”

In answer, the Doctor kissed her again. Elated, Yaz wrapped her arms around her neck, hear whooping and her stomach warm when the Doctor encircled hers around her chest.

Then something screeched just above their heads, snapping their attention in time for them to catch a glimpse of the bird’s scarlet red feathers before it disappeared back into the trees. Yaz laughed loudly and the Doctor beamed at her, eyes twinkling.

“Maybe not the best spot for this,” she decided.

“It’s not the last time though, is it?” Yaz couldn’t help asking.

“No,” the Doctor promised, watching her fondly. “It’s the first. This is just the beginning.”

Yaz’s smile stretched across her face, widening into her cheeks until her the Doctor returned it.

The beginning of something spectacular.


	13. Epilogue

Yaz lay in her bed at home, staring up at the stars that still hung on her ceiling. Her sister teased her about them but she couldn’t bring herself to take them. Especially now that they reminded her of everything she'd found placed within her reach.

It wasn’t the universe that had painted this smile on her face though. The giddy smirk that kept her up was all for the Doctor.

She still wore her scarf around her neck, the long, soft band of fabric the Doctor had wrapped around her as she’d left, pulling her in for one final kiss. It still smelled like her. Yaz still smelled like her. She was on her clothes, in her hair, on her skin, hot metal and vanilla, the sharp cold of winter, the dewy warmth of spring. Her scent was everything and it was nothing, supernatural as it was achingly familiar.

Closing her eyes she could still remember the way it had engulfed her, the Doctor’s certain fingers on her skin, her two hearts beating against Yaz’s one-

A knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts and she flipped onto her side just in time to catch Sonya bursting.

“Knock much,” she accused, bolting up indignantly.

“Like you’d have anything to hide,” her sister dismissed, eyes scanning her dresser. “I did knock. Have you seen my earrings?”

“No,” Yaz objected. “I was trying to sleep.”

She scanned her over, raising her eyebrows doubtfully. “With a scarf on?”

Her cheeks burned as she rolled out of her bed.

“I don’t have your earrings.”

“You still have this plant though,” she remarked, staring dubiously at the Doctor’s gift. Most of the warts had burst, leaking orange ooze that smelled vaguely like peaches. “You sure it’s not dead?”

Yaz huffed, ready to shoot back a sharp remark, but before she could the plant let out a shrill hum that made them both jump back. It held the note for several seconds, singing over Sonya’s yelp of surprise, as fiery yellow light began to shine from between the grooves in the grey.

“What is going on in here?” her mother asked, toothbrush in hand as she popped her head into the room.

“Get the lights,” Yaz breathed.

“What?” Sonya muttered.

“Oh, never mind,” Yaz mumbled, pushing impatiently passed her to hit the switch.

In the dark, the glow was glaringly obvious, finally catching the rest of her family’s attention. The plant hummed again, hitting a higher note which it held for about ten seconds before switching back to the lower one. Then it switched again, and again, lower and higher, the light growing stronger and the grooves growing wider each time.

“What’s it doing?” Najia wondered, puzzled.

“Mum, shhsh,” Yaz hushed.

As they watched, the petals slowly began to unfurl, the plant humming louder and louder until her dad appeared beside her mum, also holding a toothbrush.

Finally, it blossomed, tiny balls of light dancing out of it. They didn’t seem to be made of anything but the soft yellow glow, and they circled around Yaz singing so beautifully she forgot everything else, entranced by them. Then they ducked around her, each one brushing her cheek as if pecking a kiss goodbye, before finding their way to her window where they passed right through the glass and into the night.

The petals left behind still glowed faintly, crisscrossed with intricate shining patterns of brighter light. The humming grew quieter, fading almost to a whisper before cutting out.

Her family stared at it, mouths hanging open in shock, but Yaz was laughing in delight.

“That’s not natural,” Sonya commented dryly, but Yaz couldn’t care less about her pestering at the moment.

“It’s cool,” she defended.

Better than cool. It was dazzling.

“The Doctor gave that to you?” her mum recalled; eyes narrowed curiously. “Where’d she find it?”

“I have no idea,” Yaz admitted brightly.

“You’re going to be able to sleep with it glowing like that?” her dad asked.

“Yup,” she replied.

“Well… it’s different,” Najia offered in bemusement. “Enjoy it. I just hope it doesn’t wake us all up in the middle of the night.”

Sonya rolled her eyes, stalking past their parents.

“She always has the weirdest friends.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that brings the story to an end. Thank you for everyone who's come this far and I hope you had some fun along the way :D
> 
> Hopefully, I will find something new to write for this fandom in the future. Doctor Who is so full of possibilities, it's great.


End file.
